Self Analysis for Dummies
by FiveRoses
Summary: The new CBI shrink tells Jane and Lisbon that instead of therapy sessions, they can keep daily journals of their emotions. Since this is the lesser of the two evils, they both comply. And maybe they even enjoy it a little... *Complete*
1. The Journals

_I got a bit addicted to Jane and Lisbon writing their thoughts down in 'Sharing Secret Selves' and this is the result (it's not connected to that story in any way, though). It's sort of set in real time (i.e. currently between S2E16 and yet-to-be-screened S2E17), though I reserve the right to veer off on my own tangent should the need arise. This chapter is long, I know, but there didn't seem any point in splitting it – if you enjoy it, length is an asset, and if you don't enjoy it, the length is irrelevant. So I hope you enjoy it!_

_Disclaimer: These are not my characters, obviously. I would never so wantonly inflict such a multitude of hang-ups and baggage on any characters that I created!_

* * *

**The Journals**

Lisbon had been dreading the day when a new CBI psychiatrist would be appointed to replace Dr Carmen. The circumstances surrounding Carmen's departure had naturally made the department very skittish about who they hired to replace him, and they had therefore (to Lisbon's relief) taken an unusually long time about it. Having battled to get their agents to talk to a shrink even before Carmen had used his position to set one of them up to take the fall for a murder he had committed, it had proven to be a bit of a challenge finding someone the agents would find approachable and trustworthy. In the wake of the murders of Bosco and his team, however, the pressure increased to hire someone sooner rather than later, and in the end they settled on an elderly woman with an unintimidating, grandmotherly air. If anyone could set sceptical CBI agents at their ease, Dr Williams could.

Lisbon knew that, Carmen or no Carmen, the department would still require her to fulfil the standard health procedures of the CBI, one of which was to visit with the psychiatrist in the wake of a killing. Since she had spent the last few months very successfully _not_ talking about or dealing with Bosco's death, Lisbon was really not sold on the idea of being forced to talk about it now with the new department shrink. She wondered whether she could use what happened with Carmen to get Dr Williams to give her a free pass on this one. She even considered enlisting Jane's help to come up with a way of getting out of therapy. He was the only one who really knew what she'd gone through during the Carmen debacle and he'd been a staunch ally throughout. He was bound to be able to think up one of his 'cunning plans' to get her out of her obligatory appointments.

In the end all her scheming turned out to be quite unnecessary. One Monday morning not long after Dr Williams' arrival at the CBI, the doctor came of her own accord to Lisbon's office. She was pleased to find both Jane and Lisbon there, as she wished to speak to both of them together. After making her introductions, she smiled at their wary expressions and proceeded to explain why she had come to see them.

"Agent Lisbon, I am, of course, well aware of what happened with Dr Carmen." She gave Lisbon a look of deep sympathy. "I gather that you were not a big fan of having to visit a psychiatrist even before that happened, but I perfectly understand if what little faith you had in the profession has now been well and truly shattered. I am not here to make your life more stressful than it already is – my job is supposed to be to help you. To that end, I have a suggestion to make that will hopefully suit both your needs and the needs of the department."

She handed Jane and Lisbon each an unused notebook.

"Instead of visiting me and being forced to talk about things that you clearly don't want to discuss, I'd like you to keep a journal of your emotions for me. Nothing complicated, just a daily entry giving the principal emotions you've experienced during the day and perhaps a brief explanation of what you think triggered them. It's not a diary; it can be as utilitarian and impersonal as you see fit.

"At the end of every week, you'll make a copy of that week's entries and give it to me. If you've written anything that you consider too personal for me to read, feel free to black it out. Of course, your file will be completely confidential – only I will be reading it – but I understand your need for privacy and I don't want you to limit yourselves because you're worried that I will be reading it later. Rather have the cathartic experience of writing it down, and then censor my copy as you see fit.

"Keeping a journal is your therapy session; I will not expect you to discuss it with me. My only involvement will be to sign off your files and possibly suggest helpful reading material for you – which you only need read if you wish to."

She looked quizzically at Jane.

"Mr Jane, from what I've heard about you, I expect that everything that I receive from you will be, shall we say... unconnected with the truth. That's fine, I accept your right to project whatever image you choose. However, I hope that you will keep a real journal for yourself anyway. I do believe that you would find it very helpful."

She smiled benignly at them both and gave them a moment to process the idea.

"I feel like I've just been given homework," Lisbon said, eyeing her journal like it was bringing back bad memories. "But if this is what you need to sign off on my file, then I guess it's a fairly innocuous way to go about it."

Lisbon actually rather liked Dr Williams, and she was delighted with the idea that she didn't have to endure any more therapy sessions. Since she spent most of every day furious with Jane, keeping a journal of her emotions would be a piece of cake.

Jane also found Dr Williams difficult to object to, even given his natural aversion for doctors in general, and shrinks in particular. He believed her assertion that all she really wanted to do was help them, and he could see that she really believed that they needed help. Well, she was probably right about that – he and Lisbon were not exactly the most well-adjusted people around. He knew what a mess he was, and he had been worrying about Lisbon for some time now. She wouldn't accept the help that he so badly wanted to give her, so perhaps a little outside assistance wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I assume you're using the same technique with Cho?" he said, suddenly assailed by an amusing picture of Cho in therapy.

"Oh, no," Dr Williams replied, "Agent Cho and I have already had a session and it went very well."

Lisbon and Jane looked at her in total jaw-dropping disbelief.

"Kimball Cho?" Lisbon said incredulously. "Our Cho? He talked to you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say he was chatty, but he does have the ability to say with just a few sentences what would take most people dozens, so we got on very well." She smiled cheerfully at their amazed faces. "You'll send me copies of your journals every Friday, then? And remember that it's important to journal every day and to be as honest as you can."

She got up and shook their hands.

"It's been a pleasure," she said, before sailing out and leaving two very surprised people in her wake.

"Well," Jane said, "that was unexpected. You must be pleased. Don't think I haven't noticed you fretting all week about the new shrink and, no doubt, coming up with amateur schemes to get out of seeing her. You should know by now, Lisbon, that if you're ever in need of a diabolical plan, I'm your man. Hmm, speaking of which, I think I'll go and have a chat with Cho now."

"Don't badger him," Lisbon said in a warning tone. "Leave the whole shrink thing alone, Jane."

Jane gave her an innocent smile, and trotted off to wreak havoc as only he knew how. Lisbon gave an irritable sigh, tossed her journal into her drawer and got on with her work.

00000

Six o'clock. The day was drawing to a close and Lisbon thought she'd better do her 'homework' before she forgot. She pulled the journal out of the drawer, opened it to the first page and wrote the date. Then she hit a blank. What on earth was she supposed to write? She stared at the white page and did her best to analyse her emotions that day. It was much harder than it had sounded when Dr Williams was explaining it. The only emotion she could accurately identify was her present feeling of anxiety because she didn't know what to write.

Jane chose to grace her with his presence at this point. He was carrying his journal and had a certain glint in his eye that Lisbon distrusted.

"Go away, Jane, I'm busy."

"I thought we could write our journals together," he said cheerfully, seating himself at the small conference table in her office and opening his notebook. "Since I'm the source of a fair number of your emotions, I thought I'd come and inspire you in person. Be sure to tell Dr Williams all about the secret passion you harbour for me. She won't be able to diagnose you accurately unless you're completely honest and open with her."

Lisbon didn't dignify this with a response. Realising that she wasn't going to be able to get rid of the aggravating man, she decided to ignore him instead. It was easier said than done. She tried concentrating on her journal, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Jane writing busily. Typical – he would find it easy, the jackass. Unsurprisingly, he was also right – as her irritation levels rose, Lisbon did suddenly feel inspired to start writing herself.

_Jane's Journal: Week 1, Monday_

_Today I experienced the same emotions I've felt every day for the past seven years – grief, anger, guilt and vengefulness. I have no doubt I'll be feeling those same emotions for the foreseeable future, so this exercise looks to be very dull indeed. No point in trying to fix me, doc. You won't succeed._

_Lisbon, however, could use a bit of catharsis. When I noticed that she was struggling to write in her journal, I came in here and needled her a bit to give her somewhere to start. Seems to have worked. _

_Lisbon is a master in the art of denial, and I actually think this journaling idea might be helpful for her. She not only refuses to talk to other people about the things that are bothering her, I think she even refuses to admit them to herself. If she gets to the point where she's writing them down and acknowledging them, maybe she'll be able to start dealing with them and moving on._

_Bosco's death and Minelli's retirement hit her really hard, but she won't talk to me about it and won't even admit that she's sad. I worry about her. She doesn't have any outlets for her pain._

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 1, Monday_

_Jane has just come in here for the sole purpose of annoying me, and he has succeeded very well. I spend a substantial part of every day being annoyed with him. For some reason he seems to rather enjoy it. I think he only feels really alive when he's eliciting a reaction (any reaction will do) out of other people. He measures his own reality by the size of the impact he can make. That's why his obsession with Red John is so unhealthy – they feed off each other's neediness. But I'd better not get distracted by that disturbing line of thought._

_Other emotions I've felt today? _

_Well, I was a bit nervous about meeting you, Dr Williams – I thought you'd come to set up appointments. I was relieved when I realised you weren't going to. _

_I feel stressed a lot – as you know, I have a high-stress job, and having Jane around doesn't help. Today he insulted one of the local LEO's we're working with on a case, and I had to step in and soothe ruffled feathers. It's not a part of my job I enjoy and it annoys me that he never makes any attempt to show restraint. Or rather, that he goes out of his way __not__ to show restraint._

_I also worry a lot about Jane and my team and my brothers. I feel responsible for them and am concerned when things are off-kilter. Of course, Jane is always off-kilter, but that just makes me worry more. I like to be able to fix things and I get frustrated when I can't._

_I guess I'm also a bit down. It's been difficult at the CBI these last few months. I feel a bit abandoned. And, obviously, sad about everything that's happened. It hasn't been easy. I try not to dwell on it, but when you work in a place where a tragedy has happened, it's hard not to be reminded all the time. I guess it'll fade with time. I hope._

00000

Jane wondered if there was any chance he could get hold of Lisbon's journal without her finding out. He was dying to know what she'd written. Of course, if she ever found out he'd read it, it would ruin any chance that journaling might actually help her, and he certainly didn't want that to happen. In the end, Lisbon solved his dilemma by telling him that she'd hidden her journal and he need not bother looking for it. The fact that she so clearly didn't trust him made Jane immediately want to prove her wrong.

"I wouldn't dream of trying to read your journal, Lisbon," he said, trying to look as offended as possible at this aspersion on his good name.

"You'd read it like a shot if you got the chance," Lisbon said, not the slightest bit taken in, "which is why I'm not giving you the chance."

"How can I be sure you won't try to read mine?" he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Feel free to hide yours too if you're so concerned. I would think Cho and Rigsby would be more of a concern than me, though."

"Why? Are you not interested enough to want to pry?"

She sighed. "I'm sure it's fascinating reading, Jane, but I don't happen to think invading someone's privacy is acceptable behaviour."

"Of course it isn't, which is why I would never read yours, Lisbon," Jane said, remembering somewhat belatedly that he was supposed to be defending his honour.

"Right, because you have such an aversion to invading people's privacy. It's one of your most stand-out characteristics," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

_Jane's Journal: Week 1, Tuesday_

_For today's emotions, please read paragraph 1 of yesterday's entry._

_I get the sense that Lisbon is quite taken with the whole idea of writing in a journal. She went to all the trouble of hiding it from me (she knows me too well), so she must have written something worth hiding. That's a good sign._

_I must say in passing that however justified her lack of trust in me is, it still bothers me. It's irrational to want an intelligent woman to trust someone untrustworthy, and yet the irrational feeling persists. I suppose it's because she __can__ actually trust me on a deeper, more important level, and yet I know she doesn't quite. And that's upsetting._

_She's busy scribbling away in her journal as I write. I've decided to make it a habit for us to write our journals together – partly to make sure she sticks with it and partly because it's amusing watching her and trying to guess what she's writing. Plus, it can't hurt to have her associate pouring her soul out with my benign presence. Maybe it'll encourage her to talk to me more. Getting her to communicate her feelings is about as easy as getting blood from a stone, so anything that will help, I'm in favour of._

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 1, Tuesday_

_Jane asked me today whether I was interested in what he's writing in his journal, and I confess that I am very curious – though I expect, knowing him, that he's just writing the lyrics to a song or making a grocery list or something to make me __think__ he's journaling. I find it hard to picture him actually pouring out his soul on paper, even just to list his emotions. He's the most secretive person I've ever known._

_Emotions..._

_I am for some reason feeling a little paranoid that Jane will read this, so please keep your copies of this in your safe and not your filing cabinet. Jane considers locked offices and locked filing cabinets to be the equivalent to an open door with a welcome mat, and if he can't find my journal, he's bound to come and look in your files instead. Trust me on this – the man has no boundaries._

_Mostly I was in a pretty good mood today. Jane managed to get on my nerves a few times, but I would worry that he was ill if he didn't, so I put that on the plus side of the scale. We spent the day in the office, so it was pretty peaceful and I got a lot done. Aside from the relief I always feel when I start making a dent in the bottomless piles of paperwork, there's nothing to report, really._

00000

Wednesday brought with it a new case. The whole way to the crime scene, Jane kept guessing where Lisbon had hidden her journal. It made a refreshing change from him guessing which instrument she played in high school. (Incidentally, he had actually guessed the right instrument some twenty guesses back, but she wasn't about to tell him that – she was still revelling in the fact that he'd misread her body language on that one.)

"In among your files somewhere in plain sight? You figure I'm too lazy to go through all of them looking for it."

Lisbon neither confirmed nor denied the allegation.

"No," Jane said thoughtfully, "that's not it. And I'm sure you wouldn't bother with a locked drawer, since you know I don't see locks as obstacles. How about under the cushions of your couch?"

"I thought you weren't going to try to read it because of all that earth-shattering integrity you assured me yesterday was oozing from your every pore?"

"Oh, I have no intention of reading it. I'm just interested in where you've hidden it. You know how I love a good puzzle, Lisbon. I can't think why we've never played this game before."

"It's not a game, Jane!" Lisbon said irritably.

"Sure it is. And we both enjoy it immensely." He grinned at her and she couldn't stop the corner of her mouth from quirking upwards in response. He was right, she did enjoy their games – when he didn't push the boundaries too far, that is.

She was actually rather proud of her hiding place, and was relieved that he hadn't managed to guess it by the time they arrived at the crime scene. He had guessed several of the places she had considered before she'd found her perfect spot, so she was feeling a little unnerved. Perhaps she should hide it somewhere different every day.

The case distracted her for the rest of the day, however, and kept Jane entertained too, so no more thought was given to journals or hiding places till that evening. Lisbon was already writing in her journal when Jane sauntered in to join her.

_Jane's Journal: Week 1, Wednesday_

_Today we got a new case. I always like getting a new puzzle to chew on. It keeps my mind occupied. Obviously my usual emotions, as above, are still there, but I don't notice them so much when I've got other things to think about._

_I don't think that Lisbon has started dealing with her feelings yet. We were bantering today, as we so often do, but underneath it was still this persistent sadness that I wish I could magic away somehow. I miss her sparkle. I want her to be happy and at peace, and she's definitely neither of those things at present. I don't expect journaling will be some kind of magic bullet which will solve all her problems, but I do hope that it helps._

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 1, Wednesday_

_Another young woman was killed today. No matter how many dead bodies I see, I never really get used to it. I get all crisp and efficient so that no-one will notice that I'm sad, but there's no getting around the fact that I'm in a depressing line of work. So many lives wasted over such stupid things. Does one ever get used to the idea of death? Part of me wishes I could and part of me knows that that would be a form of death in itself._

_Jane was being quite well-behaved today. I managed to cut off all his attempted insults before they did anyone any harm – I think I'm getting quite adept at deflecting and corralling Jane's chaos. I'm quite proud of myself. Long may it last._

_I'm starting to have a bad feeling that the Rigsby/Van Pelt situation is going to blow up in my face sometime soon. They're not very good at keeping their relationship on the down-low, and I can see a crisis brewing. I have no idea what to do about it. It's not fair that it's my job to either break two people up or essentially fire one of them. It's a lose-lose situation. I hate stuff like this. I shouldn't have to be involved in other people's love lives. I avoid all those hassles myself, and other people still make them my problem... how is that fair? And, yes, I know life isn't fair, but this shouldn't be part of anyone's job description, in my opinion._

_So, I suppose my emotions today have been somewhat pessimistic. Sad about ever-present death; frustrated over problems I don't know how to solve; angry at the unfairness of it all. And for once, none of it was Jane's fault!_

00000

"You look like you could use some coffee," Jane said, handing Lisbon the cup that he'd bought for her on his way to work.

"Thanks," she'd said, giving him a wan smile. Jane's heart sank. He was running out of ways to cheer her up, but he wasn't yet prepared to admit defeat. He sat down opposite her.

"So, what's new in the land of Lisbon?"

Lisbon gave him one of her 'what are _you_ on?' looks.

"Since yesterday? Not a whole lot."

"You look tired. Are you having trouble sleeping?"

"No." She was getting irritated now. It didn't take much to get her hackles up. "I'm fine, Jane. Why don't you go and help Rigsby look through the surveillance tapes."

"Sounds like fun," Jane muttered, but he got up and left her alone, since that was what she clearly wanted.

The case progressed by fits and starts, and Jane spent most of the day following Lisbon from one interview to another. By the afternoon, he was fairly sure he knew who the killer was, and he proceeded to outline a plan to Lisbon to get the guy to confess. It wasn't a particularly outrageous or dangerous plan by any means, but it still bothered Jane that Lisbon went along with it without even putting up a fight. By evening, the killer was safely in custody and Lisbon was getting started on her paperwork.

Jane came in and waved his journal at her.

"Best get this done before you get too bogged down with your red tape," he said.

Lisbon huffed a little, but unearthed her journal from beneath the files that she'd just dumped on her desk. They both started to write.

_Jane's Journal: Week 1, Thursday_

_Well, I was quite pleased with myself for figuring out our killer and executing a clever plan to catch him, but Lisbon was so distracted and disinterested throughout it all that it kind of took the fun out of it. She alternated between irritability and plain old-fashioned misery today. Nothing I did or said seemed to make any difference. It was both humbling and frustrating. Usually I can manipulate her into better mood, but today she wouldn't play along._

_On that point, does manipulation count as manipulation if the person being manipulated knows what you're doing and allows you to do it? Or does their knowledge and consent mean that you're not actually manipulating them at all, but rather having a normal, open, consensual (albeit unspoken) interaction? Because Lisbon almost always knows when I'm trying to manipulate her and she either cuts me off at the knees or chooses to go along with it. Maybe she's actually the one doing the manipulating? Food for thought._

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 1, Thursday_

_Jane figured out another case in record time, which sounds great in theory, but in practice it means that I battle to keep up with the paperwork. Too many cases too fast leaves me drowning in half-completed files, meetings with the ADA's, court dates, etc. Not to mention all the added paperwork (and time placating people or deflecting lawsuits) that Jane's methods tend to generate. I don't think he has any idea of what my job actually involves. While I'm working he just sleeps peacefully on his couch. _

_Actually, I'm not sure why I'm so annoyed with him – he didn't do anything especially exasperating today – but when I'm feeling stressed I always feel like he's somehow responsible. Force of habit, I guess, since he so often __is__ responsible._

_I have too much to do to spend long on this. Suffice to say that I'm not in a good mood. I guess I got out of bed on the wrong side this morning._

Lisbon tossed her journal to one side and got stuck into her paperwork again. Jane watched her for a few moments, then said, "How about I go and pick us up something to eat? What do you feel like?"

Lisbon looked up, immediately feeling bad for having had harsh thoughts about him.

"I don't mind. You choose." She gave him a little half-smile. "Thanks."

After Jane had left, she opened her journal again to make a brief addition.

_Jane has gone to buy me dinner so that I can keep working. It's because he does things like this that I battle to stay angry with him for very long. Instead I feel an irrational sense of optimism, as though there is a light at the end of the tunnel after all. Which is my way of saying I've cheered up a little, because it's hard to be too out of sorts when Jane is being sweet._

00000

Friday morning was spent prepping for a trial in which both Jane and Lisbon were due to testify the following week.

"You can't say that on the stand, Jane!"

"Why not? It's the truth."

"Well, first of all, because it has nothing to do with the case and second of all, why do you have this overwhelming need to insult every single person you come in contact with?"

"I don't insult you, do I?"

'You insult me all the time!"

"Name one example."

"You think I'm controlling and uptight. You've accused me of being jealous of other people's happiness. You..." Lisbon looked like she was warming to her theme, so Jane thought it best to interrupt her.

"Telling you to relax is not the same as saying you're controlling and uptight. And even if I did think those things, unexpressed thoughts or opinions do not constitute insults. And I didn't accuse you of being jealous. I was stating a fact to show that I sympathised with your difficult position. I was trying to help."

"I need your help like I need a hole in the head."

Lisbon hadn't been expecting the flicker of hurt that crossed Jane's face when she said that, and she immediately felt remorseful.

"That came out a little harsher than I intended," she said by way of apology. "What I mean is that I'd prefer it if you didn't push and pry. Just let me work things out in my own time. Even when you mean well, your methods tend to come across as manipulative and intrusive."

"Lisbon, you never deal with your emotions unless someone or something makes you. You might resent it, but you know you need to pushed. And I'm the only person who has the guts to do it."

"You think _I_ need to deal with my emotions? You're a fine one to talk!"

They glared at each other for a moment, then seemed to reach a silent agreement that the conversation be dropped. Lisbon turned the page in the file they were working from and they continued with what they had been doing as though nothing had happened.

_Jane's Journal: Week 1, Friday_

_Lisbon accused me today of not dealing with my feelings. How can she say that? I've spent the last seven years doing nothing but deal with my feelings._

_Here's how I feel: I feel as though nothing is sacred and nothing is safe. As a result, I don't want to feel strongly about anyone ever again, because it's a total lie that it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all._

_No time to write more - time to turn my homework in._

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 1, Friday_

_Jane thinks that I don't deal with my feelings and that it's his job to make me. I have no idea where he comes up with this stuff. Granted I'm more inclined to express feelings like anger and frustration than I am sorrow or fear, but that's just who I am. And it's necessary for my work. He's totally wrong. I deal with things, but sometimes it just takes a while. Why he thinks it has anything to do with him anyway, I don't know._

_Anyway, it's Friday, so I'm going to make a copy of this now and give it to you. I hope it's what you asked for. I think I may have strayed from the point sometimes. Sorry about that._

Jane followed Lisbon to the photocopier carrying his journal in one hand and wielding the biggest black marker he had been able to find in the other. They made their copies, then Jane waved the marker at Lisbon.

"Are you going to black parts of it out?" he asked.

"Are you?"

Jane was torn. He knew that if he didn't black anything out there was a much better chance that Lisbon wouldn't either, and he thought that it would be a good thing if Lisbon were to learn to trust Dr Williams. On the other hand, he was itching to black out nine tenths of what he'd written just to annoy the good doctor. Not that he disliked her or distrusted her, but Jane had always been reflexively uncooperative and secretive. In the end he decided he wanted to help Lisbon more than he wanted to irritate Dr Williams.

"Nope."

"You trust her, don't you?" she said, more as a statement than a question.

"I suppose so," Jane said.

"Let's go and give her our pages then," Lisbon said, leading the way. She figured if she didn't re-read what she'd written or think too much about any of this, she could cope with handing her unabridged pages over to the doctor. Maybe if she did, Dr Williams would then sign off her file and that would be that.

Jane, pleased with Lisbon's decision, relinquished his own pages after only a brief internal struggle. Dr Williams smiled at both of them, and thanked them for bringing the pages so promptly. As Lisbon and Jane were walking back to her office, Lisbon asked, "Are you feeling something akin to buyer's remorse right about now?"

Jane grinned. "It'll be fine, Lisbon. Gotta learn to trust someone sometime."

She grimaced, but didn't disagree.

TBC

* * *

_Next up: Dr Williams makes a comment that drops a bit of a bomb in the middle of Jane and Lisbon's relationship._


	2. The Response

_Thank you all so much for your encouraging reviews. Sorry for the delayed update – I was reading 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo' and its sequel, and got thoroughly distracted – I couldn't put them down to sleep or work or even (*gasp*) write Mentalist fanfic. Sometimes my priorities get a bit messed up when I find a good book! But here is the next chapter... and it's also long. I think the format I seem to have currently settled on means that the chapters always end up about this length._

* * *

**The Response**

Dr Williams read Jane and Lisbon's journals with a great deal of fascination. She was a little surprised that neither of them had censored her copies before handing them over to her, but was pleased that they seemed to trust her. When she had finished reading, she made a point of putting Lisbon's file in her safe instead of the filing cabinet. Judging from what Jane had written, Lisbon's fears were probably well-founded.

She spent the weekend mulling over her options, before finally deciding that Jane was right – both Lisbon and Jane needed to be pushed before they would confront their emotions. With that in mind, she made her way to Lisbon's office on Monday morning, gesturing to Jane on her way past that she wanted him to follow her. Once in Lisbon's office, she closed the door and eyed them both.

Lisbon and Jane waited apprehensively to hear what it was that she wanted.

"Why don't you both sit down," the doctor said to them kindly. They complied reluctantly. "I know I said I wouldn't talk to you about what you wrote, but I feel the need to make one comment." She paused, choosing her words with care.

"Neither of you seems to be quite aware of how wrapped up in each other you are, but that is what came across more strongly than anything else in what both of you wrote. I realise that you were doing the exercise together and that you both like to deflect focus from yourselves onto someone else, but even given those factors, you are unusually focused on each other. I've done this exercise with many couples over the years, and even most married couples don't centre their writing around each other to the extent you two did."

Jane and Lisbon sat in frozen, shocked silence. Neither of them dared to look anywhere but at Dr Williams.

"I'm telling you this because I think it's time you started to acknowledge to yourselves and to each other just how important you are to each other. Although you mentioned many pertinent emotions, neither of you mentioned the most obvious one, which is the great affection you have for each other. I believe that you need each other and I would like to suggest that you open up to each other more." She stood up to indicate that she'd said her piece.

"I hope this won't affect your journaling," she added, "I don't want you to start second-guessing everything you write and censoring yourselves. Oh, and Agent Lisbon, it is impossible to stray from the point when you're journaling. The idea is to write whatever you're thinking and feeling. There are no limitations or prescriptions." She smiled at them. "Well, I'll see you on Friday when you bring me this week's journaling."

Without waiting for a response, she left the office, carefully shutting the door behind her.

Without quite meeting Lisbon's eyes, Jane said lightly, "So, what _did_ you say about me – since you clearly neglected to mention your abiding passion for me?"

"What did _you_ say about _me_?"

"I said that I worry about you. And that I wish you'd talk to me." Jane now looked directly into Lisbon's eyes.

"Okay, so we worry about each other. That's perfectly normal. Doesn't mean we're wrapped up in each other," Lisbon said, her voice defensive and a frown creasing her forehead. "So am I to believe that you actually kept a genuine journal which you then handed over to Dr Williams? Or should I disregard everything she just said because you were just messing with her?"

"I wasn't messing with her," Jane said, sensing this was not the moment to grasp at the tempting get-out clause that she was dangling in front of him. "I'm not even sure where she got all that, frankly. I admit that I talked more about you than I did about myself, but I thought that was just a clever diversionary tactic. I didn't think she'd read so much into it, though in retrospect I should have expected it. Shrinks always read too much into everything; it's an occupational hazard."

There was an awkward pause as they both tried to work out what to say next.

"So, can I read your journal now that I know it's all about me?" Jane said, aggravating as ever.

"It's not all about you, and no! Can I read yours since you've admitted that it's all about me?"

"Relationships are all about give and take, Lisbon." Jane said, sagely shaking his head. "If you won't show me yours, I won't show you mine."

That brought an unexpected giggle from Lisbon. Jane raised his eyebrows in surprised amusement.

"Tut, tut, Lisbon. Such a dirty mind."

"And what makes you think I was thinking something dirty? The fact that you think I was says more about you than it does me."

"Believe me, my dear, that naughty giggle of yours speaks volumes."

They smiled at each other, relieved that the awkwardness seemed to have passed.

"We have to be at the courthouse in an hour. Are you going to behave yourself?"

"Well, I don't want to make any rash promises and get your hopes up, but my intentions are pure."

"Hmm, you know the road to hell is paved with good intentions, right?"

"I can only do my best, Lisbon. A leopard can't change his spots, you know."

00000

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 2, Monday_

_Okay, so you dropped a bit of a bomb on us today, and it was very awkward for a while there, but we managed to slip back into our old routine almost immediately. We both like our comfort zone. Of course, since you said what you said, I haven't been able to stop thinking about the fact that Jane and I care about each other... quite a lot. I mean, I always knew that, obviously, but it's different hearing someone else say it. So, yeah, I admit that Jane is probably the most important person in my day-to-day life. He certainly takes up the most time. I also admit that it made me pretty happy to hear you say that he feels much the same way. I can't always tell with Jane. He tends to blow hot and cold._

_We spent most of the day at the courthouse, which is usually a rather excruciating experience when Jane is involved. But he told me this morning that he'd be on his best behaviour, and he kept his word. The ADA was delighted! So was I. Jane sat next to me and kept me entertained with quips and anecdotes throughout the proceedings, and then managed to get through his testimony without insulting anyone or doing anything outrageous. I think his faithful courthouse fans (several members of the staff included) were rather disappointed. They can usually count on him to liven court up, but today he was as good as gold. I wanted to give him a standing ovation. _

_We didn't really talk about anything as you seemed to hope we would, but there has definitely been a shift in our relationship. A good shift, I think. Time will tell._

_Jane's Journal: Week 2, Monday_

_First of all, kudos on the clever little read you did on us and how you handled it. Shook things up a bit, which is, I assume, what you were going for._

_Although it didn't come as a surprise to hear that Lisbon cares for me, since Lisbon has as good as told me she does (besides which she cares for everyone who comes into her sphere of influence), it was strange to have an uninvolved third party point it out. It somehow makes it more real and serious, and it reminds me that I should be more concerned about having someone investing energy and hope in me. But, unsurprisingly, I'm as selfish as ever – I want Lisbon to care, even though I shouldn't. And I'm now more curious than ever to read her journal._

_It goes without saying that I care about Lisbon. How could I not? I did try, of course, not to get attached, but growing attached to people you like and spend a great deal of time with – especially people in whose hands one has to trust one's life (and vice versa) – is inevitable. I've done my best to hold Lisbon at arm's length, but she slips past all my defences. All that passion and intensity and fire and intelligence and humour and charm and beauty... I am a mere mortal, after all._

Jane was fairly certain he was going to be using his black marker to censor Dr Williams' copy this week.

00000

When Lisbon arrived at work the next morning the only person in the bullpen was Jane lying on his couch. He had his eyes closed, but he wasn't asleep. He was thinking about Lisbon. His mouth curved up in a little smile when he heard her approach, and he breathed in her scent happily. Lisbon always smelled so delicious.

Even though his eyes were still shut, Lisbon responded to his smile with one of her own. It was a pleasant feeling to walk into a room and know that someone was so clearly pleased that you were there. Jane suddenly opened his eyes and stood up in one smooth movement. He evidently intended to go wherever she was going.

"So, what are we doing today?" he said by way of a greeting.

"Am I your entertainment committee now?" she replied arching an eyebrow at him.

"Among a multitude of other things," he said. "You, my dear, are extremely entertaining."

Lisbon was starting to feel suspicious. She knew he hadn't read her journal because she always took the precaution of taking it home with her in the evenings, but experience had taught her that when Jane was this happy he was generally up to something she wouldn't approve of. She wondered what he'd done this time. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"So little faith, Lisbon," Jane said, shaking his head regretfully. "Your suspicions are unfounded. I have done absolutely nothing you could object to all week." He was wearing the expression of a misjudged and sorely tried saint.

"It's Tuesday morning, Jane. So far the week has been one day long – plus however long you've been here this morning."

"Half an hour, Lisbon, and I've done nothing but lie on my couch and think happy thoughts."

"Good for you," she said, a little amused. Jane thinking happy thoughts had something of an incongruous ring to it. She wondered what he'd really been thinking about.

"We could always go and have a heart to heart," Jane suggested, gesturing the way to her office.

"A heart to heart?"

"Yes, as instructed by our shrink. You see, I'm turning over a new leaf this week – listening to authority figures, following instructions and generally being a model employee."

"Yeah, I don't think turning over one leaf will do it. The entire Amazon jungle, maybe."

"Hmm." Jane was now wearing his most annoying 'I know everything and am about to correct your woeful ignorance' expression. "I think the leaf in this context actually refers to a page in a book."

Lisbon gave an irritable humph, and said, "Fine, the entire US Library of Congress then." Did the man really have to pick apart her witty repartee? He really was a bit much sometimes.

"Now stop deflecting, Lisbon, and let's go and have a cosy chat."

Jane thought she definitely seemed lighter today, as though the heavy clouds that had been hanging over her had lifted a little. He knew it had to be because of what Dr Williams had said the day before, and the fact that she was responding so positively both delighted and alarmed him. But they definitely should talk. Even if she resisted and he had to be stubborn about it.

He led the way to her office. She followed him in and dumped her things on a chair before sitting at her desk and starting up her computer. Jane closed the door and sat down opposite her with a look of anticipation on his face.

"So talk, then," Lisbon said, lifting her eyebrows at him challengingly.

Ah, so that's how she was going to play it. Give and take. Fair enough.

"What do you want to know?"

"I want to know what it is that you would say to me if you were dying. You never got around to telling me."

"Your mean right hook might have had something to do with that!" Jane pointed out. He started looking around the office in an exaggerated way.

"What are you looking for?" she said in her 'why do you try my patience with your games, and why do I play along?' tone of voice.

"A deathbed," he said, as though it were obvious. She looked blank. "If I'm going to give a deathbed confession," he explained, "a deathbed seems to be a prerequisite."

She gave him a half exasperated, half amused look.

He grinned. "Okay, fine. I would thank you for having put up with me for so long."

"It has been a challenge," she agreed, but she gave him a completely genuine smile of pleasure which he returned.

"I would also tell you that whatever you might think, I have great respect for you and how you do your job and that I've learned a great deal from working with you. And I'm not talking about boring police stuff here, I'm referring to how you, in particular, work – your compassion, your integrity, your strength, the choices you make. It might not have had any noticeable effect on my behaviour, but I assure you, it affects how I think and see the world."

Lisbon sat and looked at him with big eyes. She had never expected Jane to actually answer her question seriously. She felt quite speechless.

"Your turn," Jane said.

She found her voice to say cautiously, "To tell you what I'd say to you if I was dying?"

"No, to answer a question," Jane said. "You already thought you were dying and you didn't confess anything to me. Quite disappointing really."

"Maybe I just hadn't got around to it yet."

Jane just grunted in reply. He was weighing his options. So many questions, so little chance she'd answer any of them. He didn't want to squander his opportunity. He needed to choose the right question.

He cocked his head on one side and asked, "Are you lonely?" It actually wasn't what he'd intended to ask, but it slipped out of his subconscious while his conscious mind wasn't paying attention.

Lisbon looked at him, a little startled. He held her gaze. He really wanted to know. Lisbon swallowed. He'd been honest with her, so she felt obliged to answer truthfully.

"Sometimes. I like living on my own, but recently I've felt... restless. I'm not content like I used to be. I'm not sure if that's loneliness?"

"That's sadness, Lisbon. You're unhappy, and that affects how you feel about everything else. You can't feel content when you're miserable. It makes you uncomfortable, and that makes you restless. You think that maybe if you were somewhere else, doing something else, the feeling would go away. That's not true, of course, but that's how your body instinctively wants to handle discomfort."

Lisbon looked down at her hands.

"Those feelings do go away eventually, Lisbon."

"Do they, though?" she asked, lifting her head and looking him straight in the eye.

"Yes," he said positively. "They do."

And again something shifted between them. Lisbon smiled at Jane, and it was as if another tendril of the dark cloud hanging over her unravelled and melted away. Jane smiled back.

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 2, Tuesday_

_Jane and I had an actual conversation today. And if I understood him correctly, he said that he's no longer in that place where sadness constantly weighs down his life. I know the sorrow sometimes creeps up and mugs him, but perhaps he's telling the truth that the rest of the time, if he seems happy, that's because he really is happy. Maybe he doesn't brood quite to the extent I thought he did. Maybe there is life after death, after all._

_I feel a little overwhelmed. I have to think all this through._

_Jane's Journal: Week 2, Tuesday_

_Because of what happened to me, everyone expects me to be the resident expert on grief and loss. But I know that each person deals with grief differently, so it's often hard to know the right thing to say. Lisbon wanted to know if I'm still bogged down in that restless, hopeless misery of new grief, and the answer is obviously 'no'. I didn't need to tell her that the grief never really goes away – she has enough experience with loss to know that already. So was I lying? Now that I truly analyse how I feel, I realise that I wasn't lying. I'm not miserable. As I said to her recently, it's better to be happy than to be sad. At first I used to pretend to be happy even when I wasn't, but for a while now I haven't needed to act. While I'm often sad, I'm also often happy. I hadn't even really realised it till now._

00000

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 2, Wednesday_

_Last night I went to sleep feeling happy. That hasn't happened in a long time. I was happy because although I've always wanted to believe that Jane wasn't as much of a lost cause as he appeared to be, it wasn't something I had much hope in. And for the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful._

_We didn't spend much time together today – I had appointments and paperwork; and Jane spent the day dividing his time between sleeping and bothering Van Pelt (Cho and Rigsby were both out most of the day) – but now when I look at him and he seems happy, I feel happy too because I suddenly feel like maybe I'm not just seeing a mask – maybe he really is happy._

_Jane's Journal: Week 2, Wednesday_

_Lisbon is definitely more cheerful today. Even though she was doing lots of dull, irritating chores all day, she was in a good mood. When Lisbon is in a good mood, it puts me in a good mood. Her moods are very contagious. I don't think she has any idea of the effect she has on the rest of us._

00000

Thursday started at the unpleasant hour of 4am. The crime scene was thankfully not a grisly one – in fact, the victim looked like he was asleep and no cause of death was immediately apparent. They all stifled yawns as they set about their work. Jane stood slightly to one side and absorbed all the relevant information about the scene, then he proceeded to watch Lisbon with some amusement. She was very grumpy, and he found a grumpy, sleepy Lisbon somehow very appealing. Perhaps he just always found Lisbon appealing.

She glanced up and caught him watching her. She raised her eyebrows expressively at him, but didn't say anything. Jane just smiled at her and continued to watch her. It made Lisbon feel a little self-conscious, but she tried to ignore him and get on with her work. In an attempt to distract him a little, though, she eventually asked, "Any intuitive leaps to share?"

"He was poisoned and the murderer is a woman," Jane said casually.

Lisbon glared at him. It was too early in the morning for Jane to be such a smartass.

"And you know this how?"

"Just a hunch."

Lisbon took a deep breath and counted to ten in her head. She wondered what number she would be up to by now if she added together all the tens that she'd counted to calm herself down when Jane was annoying her beyond endurance. Had to be in the hundreds of thousands at least. No-one could irritate her quite so adeptly as Jane. He had elevated pushing her buttons to an art form.

After their unreasonably early start, no-one was at their best that day. Jane decided to make up for lost time by going to sleep on his couch the moment they got to the office. Lisbon was tempted to pour a jugful of cold water over him, but managed to restrain herself. She only woke him up (without the assistance of cold water) at 8am when it was time for them to go out and start interviewing people. Sensing her irritation with him, he followed her a little sheepishly.

"You could have come and slept on the couch with me, you know," he said. "It might have put you in a better mood."

"Don't start, Jane. I don't have the energy."

"Just saying. You can't blame me for having a healthy set of boundaries."

Lisbon turned and looked at him as though he had completely lost his marbles.

"Did you just say that you think you have a healthy set of boundaries?" she said in her most disbelieving voice.

"At least I know that when it's dark out, I should be sleeping and not working on things that can wait till later."

"Says the man who will happily sleep all day long in the bright sunshine if he's given the opportunity. Especially when there's work to be done."

"Sleep is very important, Lisbon. You can't be mad at me all day now just because I have the nerve to sleep at work and you don't, but wish you did. People apply different rules to me because I make them. Just because my boundaries are in different places to yours, doesn't mean they're not there."

He looked appealingly at Lisbon. He really didn't want her to be mad at him, especially after they'd been getting on so well that week. Lisbon relented. She always found it hard to stay angry with Jane for any length of time. He was as good at charming her out of her anger as he was at causing the anger in the first place. She sometimes felt like he was a skilful musician and she was his instrument. It was an annoying image.

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 2, Thursday_

_We have another case that started at 4 this morning. I am not a morning person and it put me in a bit of a rotten mood. Jane claimed that the cause of death was poison and that the killer is a woman. Annoyingly, the first part of his guess has been confirmed by the coroner. The second part we're still working on. I don't mind that Jane comes up with these random theories of his, but I really mind when he refuses to tell me why he thinks whatever it is that he thinks. Though, to be fair, when he does tell me, I often think his reasons are just as bizarre as his conclusions. And because he's so very sure of himself, I always hope he'll be wrong. Childish, I know, but he tends to bring that out of people. Maybe because he so often acts like an annoying know-it-all child himself._

_He did say something today that gave me pause. He said that people treat him according to a different set of rules because he makes them. After thinking about it, I realised that he's right. I always thought he got away with things because he's so clever and manipulative and... well, his looks don't hurt, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised that while those things make it easier for him, there's more to it than that. We do each make the boundaries and rules in our lives which we expect other people to respect. Any person with a strong enough will and sense of self can dictate how they expect to be treated, and other people, by and large, will behave according to those rules. It's the people who don't make rules for themselves who get walked all over. That's why some people make such easy victims. _

_Jane makes his rules and he honestly doesn't care what other people think. It becomes up to the other person to decide whether they're prepared to accept his rules or not. Some do, some don't. Here at the CBI we've decided to play by his rules in return for his abilities. He gets what he wants and we get what we want (along with a whole lot of things we don't want!)._

_I'm often angry with him because my rules are clashing with his rules and he wins more often than I do. I always interpreted that as meaning that he cares less than I do – he obviously doesn't define himself by his work the way I do, so losing his job wouldn't have the same affect on him as it would have on me. But maybe it's quite the opposite – maybe it's because he cares __more__. Not about work and so on, but about who he is and what he's prepared to do and not do. After what happened to him, he's tried to do an about-turn – no more lying about being a psychic and no more chasing after money and fame. He's trying to repudiate the man he was when he caused his family's death. That's why he's such a strange mix of blunt honesty and complex lies; of arrogance and self-flagellation. He's a man in conflict with himself, trying to reconcile the old with the new, and mostly floundering._

_Perhaps his real gift is in being able to clearly understand other people's rules and boundaries and therefore knowing exactly where he can and can't go. He knows me and my boundaries. He knows exactly how far he can push me and which buttons to press. It's both frustrating and strangely comforting._

_I've just re-read this entry and realised that you're right – the whole thing is about Jane. Dammit._

_Jane's Journal: Week 2, Thursday_

_Lisbon was already halfway through today's entry when I arrived to write my journal. She seems to have plenty to say today. I'm afraid it's not going to reflect well on me. Just to set the record straight, I did absolutely nothing wrong today. I had an opinion (correct, of course) about the murder, which is what they pay me for. Lisbon only got bent out of shape because it was 4 in the morning and the only thing she wanted to be doing right then was sleeping. Then I slept until a decent hour of the morning, which I think is a perfectly acceptable thing to do at 5am when you don't have anything in particular to do. Again, she only got annoyed because that's what she wanted to be doing but didn't have the nerve. _

_Poor Lisbon, she's so dependent on her job for her self-image – her job has unfortunately become her whole life. It stops her from being as unconventional and creative as I think she really is underneath all her surface devotion to the CBI rule-book. The reason we get along so well is that there is a part of her that revels in being able to be vicariously anarchistic through me. She pretends to be mad when I do something unorthodox, but quite often I can tell that she's either thoroughly enjoying herself or, at the very least, amused and entertained._

_Her mood did improve as the day went on. She seemed to be thinking something through. I sincerely hope she's not going to just write it all down and never bother to tell me about it. That would be very frustrating indeed. _

00000

The case had become bogged down in an oversupply of facts, which had to be followed up one at a time. Jane, who didn't like doing anything tedious, disappeared to pass the time his own way. Lisbon and her team spent the day diligently working their way through the leads, which yielded only the dubious benefit of enabling them to rule out numerous possible suspects. When Jane returned in the afternoon, Lisbon looked at him sharply.

"And where have you been all day?"

"Out. Thinking."

"And? Do you know who the killer is?"

Regretfully, Jane had to admit that he didn't. He had a few Most Likely Suspects, but didn't know which one had committed the murder.

"Let me guess. You have a plan to flush out the killer?"

Again, Jane had to confess that he had not yet come up with a plan.

"Don't worry, I'll think of something. I'm still mulling over my options."

Lisbon just shrugged.

"Take your time," she said. With a bit of luck the team would come up with some decent evidence first, and they could avoid a crazy Jane plan entirely. She lived in hope.

Jane followed Lisbon to her office.

"Time to do our journals," he said. "It's Friday, remember."

Lisbon looked unenthusiastic, but her journal had already been sitting accusingly on her desk for the last hour and she decided she'd better stop procrastinating. They both sat down and began their entries.

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 2, Friday_

_We haven't made any progress on the case, but at least Jane hasn't done anything crazy yet. Well, I hope he hasn't. He was out all day, so who knows what mischief he's been up to._

_I've been in an average sort of mood today. A bit blue, I guess, but not as bad as some days. I've been so preoccupied this week that I haven't really had time to brood about, you know, everything._

_And glancing back through the week's journaling, I can see what you were talking about. This is a journal about Jane. For some reason he's easier to talk about than some of the other things that are bothering me. He makes me angry or happy and that's so easy to articulate. The other stuff is... harder. I don't know what to say really, and I try not to think about it. It's so much easier to allow myself to be distracted by Jane. I know it's not a very healthy attitude to take, but it's how I work through things. Will you still sign off my file? Or are you going to make me keep rambling on about Jane until I cave and tell you all my deep, dark secrets?_

_Jane's Journal: Week 2, Friday_

_Today the others were doing all that tedious police work that I steer so diligently clear of, so I thought I'd take myself off out of Lisbon's eye-line so as not to annoy her with my indolent presence. We were having a pretty good week up until yesterday, but once Lisbon is on the warpath, it's about as sensible to intentionally irritate her as it is to poke an angry bear with a stick. Which isn't to say I don't sometimes do just that, but I wasn't in the mood to fight with her today._

_I decided to go to the park instead, and doze on the grass. The case is as dull as ditchwater, so I'm letting the team have a couple of days head start before I start really applying my mind to it. Sometimes I like to let them feel like they're doing something useful. I didn't want to work today anyway. No doubt Lisbon thought I was off on one of my schemes, but she'd probably be more annoyed if I told her what I was really doing, so I'm just letting her think whatever she wants. She doesn't understand that some days are just too beautiful to be cooped up inside. I shouldn't think she's ever played hooky in her life. One of my missions in life is to get Lisbon to play truant one day. Sounds impossible, I know, but I am a resourceful and determined man! I will find a way. That woman __really__ needs to learn how to have some fun._

_Oh, and in case you were wondering, I took you at your word about just writing whatever I was thinking 'without prescription or limitation'. As I said originally, chronicling my emotional state would make for very dull reading._

Jane once again took his black marker with him when he and Lisbon went to copy their journal pages. Before he had a chance to start editing, though, Lisbon noticed Dr Williams walking by and, grabbing Jane's copies straight out of the machine, she handed both his and her pages to Dr Williams as she went past. Jane opened his mouth to protest, but Dr Williams had smiled her thanks and hurried off to an appointment before he got the chance.

"Lisbon!" he said, annoyed. "I wanted to edit those first."

"Wasn't it you who said we had to learn to trust someone sometime?"

"I meant you, not me!"

Lisbon suppressed a laugh. Jane really did look thoroughly indignant and ruffled up.

"What did you say that you need to black out so urgently?" she said, playfully making a grab for his journal. Jane hurriedly held it out of her reach.

"Nothing in particular. It's the principle of the thing."

Lisbon rolled her eyes.

"That's a bit rich coming from you! You wouldn't know a principle if it stepped on you."

Jane pretended to look hurt. Lisbon grinned and left him to pout by himself.

She was very curious, though, as to what he wanted to censor so badly. She was fairly sure it was about her. What on earth had he said?

TBC

* * *

Next up: Will Lisbon give in to the temptation to read Jane's journal when the opportunity presents itself?


	3. The Test

_Thank you for all your lovely reviews and comments. I delayed this chapter until I'd seen the latest episode, as I wanted to keep my story in line with 'real-time' events – the advent of the new boss and her ultimatum seemed too big a factor to overlook – so this has spoilers for S2E17 (The Red Box)._

* * *

**The Test**

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 3, Monday_

_On Friday, after I'd already given you my journal, Van Pelt turned up some very damning evidence and when Cho interrogated the suspect, she confessed almost right away. On the minus side, Jane was right – the killer was a woman. On the plus side, we solved the case the old-fashioned way and without his help, which made me surprisingly happy. It made me realise that I rather resent that Jane closes most of our cases for us. I admire his skills and appreciate that he can solve things that might otherwise remain unsolved, but to be quite honest, having him around doesn't do much for my self-esteem._

_My new boss is arriving tomorrow. Madeleine Hightower. Jane teased me about being nervous about meeting her, which I found irritating – but he's right. I am nervous. With Minelli I knew where I stood; where the boundaries were. He hired Jane, so I didn't have to justify his presence so much as downplay the chaos. But with a new boss, who knows? She's bound to start gunning for Jane the minute she gets here. I mean, I would if I were in her shoes. Jane's not exactly the poster boy employee. Even with the best will in the world, he just isn't capable of not making messes. For all he's so smart and often apparently clairvoyant, he doesn't seem to anticipate the messy side-effects of his behaviour, and often seems surprised when he finds his life being threatened or when something goes seriously pear-shaped with one of his stupid plans. Bosses tend not to understand that there is a cost that comes with eccentric brilliance, and in Jane's case, the cost is often very high. How am I supposed to explain that to my new boss and still make a good impression? If she takes a dislike to me, my career is toast. And unlike Jane, my career actually really matters to me. A lot. I've worked hard and sacrificed a great deal to get where I am. So, yeah, I'm nervous. I can't see this going well._

_Aside from that, we have a new case today. A very odd one where the dead body somehow came alive again – well, his heart started beating again, but his brain is dead. Of a lot of really weird things I've seen, that's one of the weirdest._

_Jane's Journal: Week 3, Monday_

_Lisbon is writing with a certain stressed fury, so I expect she's telling you about the arrival of our new boss. Lisbon's seriously nervous about her arrival, which I would find very cute if I didn't know that I'm the cause of much of her panic. She's trying to figure out a way to explain me to her new boss in a way that a) doesn't get me instantly fired, and b) doesn't cast her in a bad light. She's desperate to make a good impression on the person who holds the future of her career in her hands – and we both know that Lisbon's career is her whole life. No wonder she's nervous._

_I'm not too worried about our new Agent Hightower, however. Once she's here I'll be able to get a read on her and then figure out how best to handle her. Lisbon forgets that I know how to get what I want out of people. She always thinks everything is up to her. I'd try to tell her otherwise, but I know she wouldn't believe me. She's one of those people who always takes responsibility for everyone and everything. It doesn't even seem to occur to her not to. It's both a disarming and a worrying trait. She'll burn herself out eventually, or end up bearing the consequences for something that isn't her fault._

00000

Lisbon knocked tentatively on Dr William's door, half-hoping and half-afraid that she wouldn't be there. Dr Williams invited her in, and, immediately sensing her distress, offered her a seat. Lisbon sat down uncertainly.

"I hope you're not busy. I can come back later," she said.

"Not at all," Dr Williams said reassuringly. "I don't have any appointments this afternoon. What can I help you with?"

Lisbon took a deep breath. "I met my new boss today," she began, then she paused, clearly unsure how to go on.

"Madeleine Hightower. Yes, I met her too," Dr Williams said. "How did it go?"

"Not great. Everything that could go wrong with our latest case went wrong today. Jane insulted someone as usual, which got a warrant we needed turned down by the judge; a suspect escaped, taking an agent's gun in the process. And, of course, since I'm the boss, all of that automatically becomes my fault. It's not exactly the first impression I was hoping to make."

"What did Agent Hightower say to you about it?" Dr Williams prompted when Lisbon stopped again.

Lisbon lifted her eyes to meet those of Dr Williams' and for the first time the doctor got a glimpse of the great vulnerability and despair that Lisbon was experiencing.

"She said that if I can't keep Jane in line, she'll find someone who can," she said softly, a slight sheen of unshed tears making her eyes glimmer. "When she said that Jane was a valuable asset to the CBI, I was so relieved for a moment because I thought she was on our side, but it seems that while he might be irreplaceable, I am not. What am I going to do? Jane will never change – I don't think he could even if he wanted to – so it's just a matter of time before I get fired because of some crazy stunt he's pulled. I've been nominated to be the fall-guy. Am I really so worthless to the CBI?" She dropped her gaze to her lap, trying to regain control over her emotions and not allow her tears to fall.

Dr Williams got up from where she was sitting behind her desk, and came and sat in the chair next to Lisbon's. She took one of Lisbon's hands and tried to get Lisbon to look at her again.

"Agent Lisbon, I think this tactic of Agent Hightower's says less about the value the Bureau might place on you and more about the value that Mr Jane places on you. I'm sure Agent Hightower hasn't the slightest desire to fire you and that she's doesn't think it'll come to that. She clearly believes that what Mr Jane won't do for anything or anyone else, he will do for you. "

"Then she doesn't know him very well," Lisbon said despairingly.

"Maybe she knows him better than you think. However, I do see a flaw in her plan."

Lisbon looked up. "What flaw?"

"Let's say you did get fired because of something Mr Jane did. How do you think he would react to that?"

"He'd be upset."

"That's how he would feel, but I'm asking what he would do? Somehow I can't see him coming meekly in to work the next day and behaving perfectly for his new boss, can you?"

Lisbon suddenly smiled. "Not without a lobotomy of some kind."

"So what do you think he'd do?"

"Most likely he'd threaten to quit unless they reinstated me," Lisbon said, thinking it through. "Or he might just behave so horribly with the replacement that they'd be forced to bring me back as the lesser of two evils."

"Or he would actually quit," Dr Williams suggested. "Or he might simply stop coming to work and spend his time with you instead."

Lisbon looked doubtful. "The Red John case is too important to him for him to actually leave. Though he might well go on strike." She smiled a little at the thought.

"So it's safe to say that he wouldn't take it lying down?" Dr Williams said.

Lisbon's grin broadened. "Nothing would stop Jane from lying down. But you're right – firing me would be the worst possible way to try to get him to behave better in the future. He doesn't respond well to that kind of bullying tactic." Her smile faded. "But just because it's a poorly thought out plan, doesn't mean I won't still get fired."

"I think you need to talk to Mr Jane about this. He's the one who is being tested here. Agent Hightower is lobbing the ball into his court and waiting to see what he will do with it. This isn't really about you at all, I'm afraid. You really should discuss it with him."

"What is there to say?"

Dr Williams smiled at her. "Plenty, I would think. But this affects both of you and it will have an impact on your relationship. It's important that you at least broach the subject."

Lisbon looked doubtful. Dr Williams patted her hand.

"I'm very pleased that you felt you could come and talk to me about it, though. You asked in your journal last week whether I was going to make you keep writing until you finally cracked and started talking about the things that really bother you." She smiled at Lisbon. "I think this is a very good start, but I think that journaling is something you should do long-term – even when you're no longer doing it for me. It's a wonderful tool for working through your feelings in a simple, safe way. You're not a person who readily confides in anyone, so perhaps making journaling a lifelong habit is a sensible alternative. After all, there will always be things you'll be needing to work through, and you will probably always resist talking to anyone."

Lisbon nodded and stood up. "Thank you for your help, Dr Williams," she said, holding out her hand.

Dr Williams shook her proffered hand and smiled at her. "Any time, Agent Lisbon. That's what I'm here for."

After Lisbon left, Dr Williams sat thinking about her and her latest predicament. It seemed very harsh that Lisbon should now have to worry about the safety of her job on top of all the other things she'd had to deal with that year. However strong she appeared to be on the surface, Dr Williams believed that underneath Lisbon was actually very gentle, fragile and vulnerable. She poured herself unreservedly into her job and her colleagues and if they were taken away from her, she'd be lost.

Dr Williams felt unprofessionally angry on Lisbon's behalf. She'd taken a great liking to the young woman and had recognised early on that Lisbon, although she was justifiably so afraid to trust anyone, nevertheless very badly wanted to find someone to trust. The fact that she had come to her now in a moment of personal crisis bore this theory out. It didn't surprise her at all that Jane, who, of course, could see through Lisbon's surface persona, would find her so irresistibly appealing. She was searching for something that even she couldn't define, and he wouldn't be a man if he didn't instinctively want to be the one to help her find her answers – preferably in him.

Dr Williams felt deep concern for both Jane and Lisbon – they had the potential both to rescue each other and destroy each other, and she was very worried that the latter option had the greater chance of happening. Their lives just seemed intent on producing ongoing chaos and disaster. She sighed. She wished there was more she could do to help.

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 3, Tuesday_

_Less than an hour after I saw you, the warrant that I needed was delivered to my office – Agent Hightower made it happen. Admittedly there are both advantages and disadvantages to having a boss skilled in political intrigue and power play. _

_I don't think Jane knows about Hightower's ultimatum yet, as he hasn't had his little one-on-one meeting with her yet. I'm going to wait and see if he says anything. I know, I'm a coward._

_Jane's Journal: Week 3, Tuesday_

_Something's up with Lisbon. I know the case had a few glitches today (only one of which was my fault), and she had to meet her new boss in the midst of it all and try to explain/justify the mess, but I feel like there's something much bigger than that going on with her. She seems unusually tense and distressed, even for her. She hasn't said anything to me about it (as usual), but I'm fairly sure something serious happened between her and Hightower and I'd bet good money that it has to do with me. She really needs to learn that she doesn't need to fight my battles for me – not that I don't appreciate it, but I'm sure I'll be able to handle Hightower. She's asked to see me first thing in the morning, so I guess I'll find out then._

00000

_Jane's Journal: Week 3, Wednesday_

_So, now I know what was bothering Lisbon. No wonder she was so upset. What am I supposed to say to her? How can I reassure her that only over my dead body will she ever be fired because of me. I know how much her job means to her. I wouldn't do that to her. I know I'm a selfish idiot a lot of the time, but I do have limits, and this is one of them. Minelli made it easy – he said if I screwed up he'd protect the team and throw me to the wolves. I had no problem with that, since the wolves don't scare me. This Hightower on the other hand... she's sneaky. Tricky. And good at reading people and their relationships. She spotted right away that Lisbon is my weakness._

_Still, her plan doesn't really hold up too well under scrutiny. She can't tell me that I'm too valuable to lose and then not expect me to take advantage of that. All I have to say is that I won't work my magic for the CBI unless I have Lisbon by my side working her brand of magic. I haven't done that yet, because Hightower and I have just engaged in a rather intriguing game of chicken and I need to let it play out if I want to work it best to my (and Lisbon's) advantage. I've already tested the waters – I did one of my not-exactly-above-board plans (without Lisbon's knowledge), and Hightower caught me at it. She told Lisbon that her butt was on the line, which is rather silly since she knew Lisbon had no knowledge of what I was doing. I just wanted to give Hightower a little demonstration that she is no more able to control me (even with her threats against Lisbon) than anyone else. I think I proved my point. Game on._

_I do feel bad for Lisbon, though. We haven't talked about any of this, though we spent most of the evening together and talked about everything else. I figure my brand of reassurance won't go down especially well with Lisbon. My main concern is that Lisbon might actually believe that it's perfectly fair that she be held responsible for me and everyone else. She does tend to default to martyr mode. I wish she'd rage against the machine rather. That would be a much healthier reaction, in my opinion._

_Hightower has even picked up on Rigsby and Van Pelt's relationship (she really is very good!), and told Lisbon that since she hadn't done anything about it, she (Hightower, that is) was going to have to do it for her. Poor Lisbon. All her past kindnesses are now coming back to haunt her. On the plus side, at least the Rigsby Van Pelt thing isn't her problem any more. I know that was stressing her out somewhat._

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 3, Wednesday_

_Hightower has also made the connection about Rigsby and Van Pelt. I knew that was a ticking time-bomb. Now she must have an even lower opinion of my leadership skills than she had before. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm not right for this job. My team is a mess and these last few months I haven't been at my best. Everything is spiralling a little out of control. Of course, Minelli left us in the lurch at the worst possible time, which made my job a lot more complicated, but that's no excuse. I could have risen to the challenge, but I didn't. I failed the test, and now it's payback time. And you know what they say about payback..._

_Clearly Hightower told Jane this morning the same thing she'd told me. And what did he do? Turned right around and did something which, if it had gone wrong, would have been adios my career. And did he apologise to me? Talk to me about it? Seem sorry? Say it was all a part of some larger master plan of his and not to worry my pretty little head about it? Nope, none of the above. Although he did try to make it clear to the aggrieved party that I had nothing to do with it (like that's going to help). What can I say? Clearly I'm screwed. I guess I'd better start working on my CV and thinking about alternative career options._

_Jane has been hovering about my office all evening, though. He's taken up residence on my couch. Is that Jane for 'you don't have to worry, Lisbon, I'm in your corner'? Or is he just trying to spend as much time with me as he can before it's too late?_

00000

On Thursday morning Lisbon arrived at work even earlier than she usually did. Despite all the good reasons she had to lose heart and throw in the towel, Lisbon was a fighter, and she didn't plan to go down without a fight. She intended to get on top of things and impress her boss, even if it was (apparently) a pointless exercise. She wanted to be judged on her own merits, not Jane's demerits.

The first thing she noticed when she entered her office was the journal lying on her desk. Although she was convinced that she had carefully put her journal in her briefcase and taken it home, the evidence to the contrary was lying starkly in the middle of her desk. Horrified, she dropped what she was carrying, grabbed the journal and flipped it open. Her eyes had absorbed a line of Jane's flowing handwriting before her brain caught up with her and she slammed the journal closed again. Jane's journal. Jane's journal was lying in the middle of her desk. Why? Had he left it there? Did that mean he wanted her to read it? Judging by the line she'd already read, she doubted it. But how else could it have got there if he hadn't put it there? Was it some kind of test?

She badly wanted to read it. This man held her job – her whole life – in his hands and hadn't even bothered to talk to her about it. Didn't she have a right to know what he was thinking? Even if she just read yesterday's entry. Wasn't it only fair? He always poked around in her head and invaded her privacy. If their roles were reversed, he'd read her journal without hesitating.

She stood holding his journal in her hands for several long minutes, wrestling with her conscience. The line she had seen was repeating itself over and over in her brain: "_All that passion and intensity and fire and intelligence and humour and charm and beauty... I am a mere mortal, after all."_ Although she was sure he was talking about her, she hadn't seen the line that led into that sentence, and not knowing the context was driving her crazy. But if she started flipping through the journal trying to find that line, she would then see other things that would drive her crazy, and she'd end up reading the whole thing. She knew she couldn't do that.

She put the journal into her out-tray, collected her things from floor where she had dropped them, and resolutely got started on her work. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

Jane wandered into her office about half an hour later, bearing a fresh cup of coffee and wearing a cheerful grin.

"Trying to impress Hightower, I see. The early bird catches the worm, and all that."

Lisbon glared at him.

"Why did you leave your journal on my desk? Did you want me to read it, or was it just some bizarre test of my integrity?"

Jane, to her surprise, paled slightly.

"My journal was on your desk?" he said, looking genuinely thrown.

She pointed to her out-tray, and Jane leaned over, picked up the journal and opened it to check that she wasn't just playing him to see his reaction.

"I didn't read it," she said, still sounding thoroughly annoyed. Evidently fighting temptation made her cranky. "If you didn't put it there, who did?"

Jane thought back to the previous evening. He had been so busy concentrating on Lisbon that he hadn't been thinking much about his journal. He'd put it on the floor beside her couch while he was talking to her... and that was the last he remembered of it.

Looking embarrassed, he admitted, "I might have left it on the floor by the couch. The cleaning staff must have put it on your desk." He looked at her for a moment. "You must have opened it to check it wasn't yours. I imagine your first thought was that you'd left your journal on your desk."

"As soon as I saw your handwriting, I closed it again, and I haven't opened it since," Lisbon said, and although Jane believed her, he also thought she'd left something out.

"But you inadvertently read something while it was open, didn't you?"

"I did not," she said. Jane could never understand why Lisbon always tried to deny things when she knew he could tell she was lying.

"I know you didn't mean to, Lisbon, but since you did it's only fair that you tell me what you saw. Come on, spit it out."

Lisbon couldn't bring herself to quote his words back to him, even though they had burned themselves into her brain.

"Something about passion and fire and you being a mere mortal," she mumbled, not looking at him.

Right. Of course. Of all the lines in the journal she could have seen, it had to be that one!

"Ah yes," he said, "Maria Callas. One of the greats. Who can resist such a voice?"

"And how exactly does her intelligence, humour and charm factor in?" Lisbon's voice was dry. "She is that opera singer who died about thirty years ago, isn't she?"

Hmm, Lisbon knew a bit about opera. That was unfortunate. Jane gave a boyish, you-got-me shrug.

"Don't be jealous, Lisbon. I assure you that I'm fully aware that you also have all those qualities in abundance." He grinned at her, and she knew that was the closest she was going to get to a confession at this point. "I'm very impressed that you resisted the temptation to read the rest. I should warn you that I would not be as strong if the roles were reversed."

"You told me once that I could trust you, Jane, and so I'm going to trust that won't read my journal without my permission."

She looked at him with that unwilling, yet unquenchable hope that always lurked in those big eyes of hers and he knew he was caught. She had officially outwitted him. Even if she left her journal on his couch every day from now on, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to break that fragile trust she had just placed in him.

"I meant what I said that day, Lisbon," he said, leaning forward earnestly. "You can trust me no matter what happens."

Lisbon knew they were no longer talking about their journals. She held his gaze for a few moments and read the sincerity in his eyes, before she nodded slightly. He leaned back, satisfied that she had received his message.

"Better drink your coffee before it gets cold," he said, before leaving her to her work. He made sure he took his journal with him this time.

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 3, Thursday_

_Today was very uneventful compared to the last few. Thank heavens. I kept a low profile and got through a lot of work. I figure the best thing to do right now is to make sure that everything that I do has all its i's dotted and its t's crossed. At this point, the less fire I draw, the better. I think I've taken about as many hits as I can stand at present._

_One thing that did happen today was that I found Jane's journal on my desk (put there by the cleaning staff). I didn't read it, but I opened it thinking it was mine and read one line before I realised that it was Jane's journal. He wrote, "__All that passion and intensity and fire and intelligence and humour and charm and beauty... I am a mere mortal, after all"_ a_nd now I can't get it out of my head. He, of course, said he was talking about some opera singer (translation: he doesn't want to talk about it), but I'm sure he was talking about me – I just don't know the context, and I admit it's driving me a little crazy. Though the more I think about it, the more afraid I am that he __wasn't__ talking about me – at first I was sure he was, but now... See, this is why I try not to think about things too much!_

_Jane and I still haven't really talked about the situation with Hightower, but he did reiterate something he's said to me before – that I can trust him and that he'll always be there for me. I'm sure he was trying to reassure me about the whole mess, though it sounds a bit ominous to me – what is he planning? Do I even want to know?_

_Jane's Journal: Week 3, Thursday_

_Lisbon found my journal on her desk this morning, and when she told me, I was surprised at how afraid I felt that she might have read it. Lisbon is, I suppose, my forbidden fruit. I can't allow her to be drawn too far into my mess (which is why I don't tell her everything I feel), but I also can't let her go too far away, because I need her. Despite the temptation, she stayed as strong as always and didn't read the whole thing while she had the chance (if it had been me, I would have shot off to the bathroom where I wouldn't be disturbed and read it from cover to cover). She did inadvertently read one line, though, and of course it was the line where I described all the reasons why she makes it impossible for me to hold her at arm's length. I don't know what she's making of it, and I know it would be better to just confront it and clear the air, but laying myself open to her like that... it wouldn't be good for either of us, I'm sure. Better to leave well enough alone. I have, however, marked the front of my journal so it need never be mistaken again!_

_Hightower has been busy with whatever machinations someone in her position indulges in, and we didn't see her at all today. Lisbon stayed holed up in her office all day, no doubt trying to be the best CBI agent ever to walk the earth. I wish I knew how to make her relax._

00000

Having had a whole day mostly deprived of Lisbon's company (since she'd buried herself in paperwork all day Thursday), Jane decided on Friday that enough was enough. When Lisbon seemed intent on spending another day drudging away in solitude, Jane decided to relocate himself onto her couch. He had recently discovered that it was quite comfortable, and it gave him the considerable advantage of having Lisbon all to himself.

Lisbon didn't comment when she returned from getting herself some coffee and found Jane installed on her couch. He had his eyes closed, so she simply went on with her work as though he always slept in her office. She wasn't sure what this break with tradition signified, but she didn't object to his presence. In fact, she liked having him there.

Jane spent the morning mostly watching Lisbon through a tiny slit in his almost-closed eyelids. He wondered why he'd never thought to pass his day like this before. The view from his new spot was superb. He knew that Lisbon had no idea how lovely she was.

"I like your hair like that," he said suddenly, out of the blue. "It suits you."

Lisbon looked up, startled. He had been so unobtrusive that she'd almost forgotten he was there. The way he was looking at her made her blush slightly. She ducked her head, embarrassed.

"Thanks," she said.

"Why do compliments embarrass you, Lisbon? You're very beautiful, so I would have thought you'd have had plenty of practise over the years fielding compliments."

"You're one to talk – you got all coy when that Banks woman complimented you on your skills. You had this whole "Aw shucks, ma'am" thing going on."

Jane grinned delightedly. "I never get tired of attractive women telling me how clever I am. You should try it sometime. You know what they say – you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

"Why would I want to catch flies?" Lisbon said. "It's much quicker and easier to just invest in a decent fly swatter and kill the nasty little pests."

Jane pouted slightly.

"I wasn't talking about you," Lisbon said, in her slightly exasperated 'must you behave like a 3-year-old trapped in a man's body?' voice.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said.

Silence fell as Lisbon became engrossed in her work once more. The peace lasted about half an hour, then Jane suddenly said, "You know, I noticed that you didn't seem very taken with Slocombe's description of us as a 'cute young couple'."

"Well, we're not cute or young or a couple."

Jane propped himself up indignantly, "We are cute!" he said, in an insulted tone. "Very cute, in fact. And we're young...ish, and technically a couple – in that there are two of us."

"We're not a couple in the sense he was meaning."

"Close enough," Jane mumbled to himself as he subsided back onto the couch.

"What did you say?"

"I can't believe that you don't think I'm cute. Really? Even with an ice-cream? I find that hard to credit."

Lisbon just gave him an amused smile and shook her head to indicate that the conversation was over.

Jane felt satisfied. He thought he'd succeeded in letting Lisbon know how attractive she was. He fell asleep feeling like he'd earned his keep that day.

_Jane's Journal: Week 3, Friday_

_I spent the day dozing on the couch in Lisbon's office. I can't think why I haven't tried it before. It's the perfect spot to keep an eye on her. She seems to have settled into a kind of desperate calm. Apparently she thinks that working herself into the ground is the answer to her current troubles. Well, actually, Lisbon always thinks that's the answer to any form of trouble in her life. She thinks if she distracts her mind for long enough, the problem will go away on its own. In this instance, I plan to prove her right. One day she's going to resurface and find that her new boss thinks she's the best thing since sliced bread. Since she __is__ the best thing since sliced bread, it shouldn't be all that hard. I'm sure I'll come up with a viable plan soon. It's a pity that Lisbon's distress is putting the whole thing under a bit of pressure, because I have a feeling that sparring with our new boss is going to be rather fun. It seems a shame to outwit her too quickly, but I can't have Lisbon going around like the sword of Damocles is hanging over her head for too long._

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 3, Friday_

_I'm too exhausted after this nightmare week to think coherent thoughts. I'm feeling a little depressed, to be honest. Like nothing I do is ever going to be good enough, so why bother trying. It's not that I don't want to fight; it's just that I don't know where or who my enemy is. Ever since Jane started working with me I've had this same problem. How do you control someone who won't be controlled because he quite genuinely believes he's always right? That's the reason Hightower's plan isn't going to work – Jane __never__ thinks his plans will turn out badly, despite all the evidence to the contrary. So he's going to keep doing what he always does, because he believes he's fire-proof – and, by extension, that I am too. And I realise that's a pun, now that I've written it down. Ha ha._

_I know I should have talked to Jane about all this, but there really isn't anything to say. I know him. He knows me. Neither of us is going to change. Talking about it won't achieve anything. Much as I hate to say it, I'm just going to have to trust him. One thing I'm sure of is that Jane is in my corner. As allies go, he's a pretty good one to have. While he won't ever change for me, he will do everything in his (quite considerable, if strange) power to keep me from harm. In the meantime, I'm going to try not to wallow._

"I'll take our copies to Dr Williams, if you like," Jane said, holding out his hand for Lisbon's journal pages. "Since you trust me and all."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him, then slipped her pages into an envelope which she sealed and addressed to Dr Williams. She gave the envelope a bit reluctantly to Jane.

"No point in making the temptation unnecessarily great," she said. "Pity I don't have any sealing wax and a cool seal."

"With the Lisbon family crest on it?" he asked, interested.

"Yeah, right, we have one of those," Lisbon said sarcastically.

"What would you put on your seal, then. A gun? A lioness? A golden retriever?"

He looked like he was just getting warmed up, so Lisbon waved him off with an "I thought you were taking those to Dr Williams?". Jane left reluctantly, his mind still turning over possibilities. He loved getting a new Lisbon puzzle. They were his favourite kind.

Dr Williams' door was ajar when he arrived, so he peered inside. She saw him and smiled in welcome.

"Mr Jane. Come in. Agent Lisbon isn't with you today?"

"She's attempting an exciting new thing called trust," Jane said, giving the doctor his pages and Lisbon's envelope.

Dr Williams looked pleased.

"Well that's a promising sign. Have you two been talking things through? I've been a little concerned."

Jane looked appraisingly at the doctor.

"She's been here to talk to you, hasn't she? About Hightower, I'd guess. She's understandably a little freaked out." Jane felt distinctly jealous that Lisbon had talked to the doctor instead of to him.

The doctor looked at him enigmatically.

"Now is your moment to step up, Mr Jane. She needs you. And you two really need to learn to talk to each other. No matter how well you can read each other, there is no substitute for a good old-fashioned conversation. She's hurting right now, and it's not the time to be playing games. I have no doubt that you care a great deal about her, but the question is, do you care enough? Genuine love is an unselfish emotion. Are you prepared to make sacrifices for her?"

Dr Williams was looking at him with such seriousness that Jane was rooted to the spot. For the first time that week he allowed himself to truly recognise the great pain that Lisbon must be feeling. The blow that had been delivered to her self-esteem must have undermined her very sense of self. She had had all her value as a CBI agent stripped from her and had been made into nothing more than his satellite; her control over her own destiny taken from her and placed in his reckless hands. And instead of falling apart or blaming him, she had just kept going like nothing was wrong.

"I'll look after her, doc," he said, softly. Then he turned swiftly and left the room. He had a lot of thinking to do.

TBC

* * *

_My heart is really going out to poor Lisbon right now. How unfair is her life?!_


	4. The Day Off

_Thank you all for your lovely reviews. I decided Lisbon needed a bit of a break and some TLC, so that's what I'm giving her, courtesy of one Patrick Jane. The format of this one is therefore a little different, so I hope you'll bear with me._

* * *

**The Day Off**

It had been a busy couple of days. The team had been called in for a politically sensitive case early on Saturday morning and although it had been an easy one to solve, it had still taken up most of the weekend. Consequently when Monday morning rolled around, Lisbon wasn't especially enthusiastic about getting up and going to work. She was starting to feel that work was a bit overrated. There's nothing like a lack of appreciation to kill a person's motivation.

Emerging from her home, she was nonplussed to see Jane's car parked across the street. Jane was leaning casually against it, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be waiting outside her home for her. First the couch in her office, now this. What was up with him? When he saw her, his face lit up, and he trotted across to her to say good morning.

"Jane, what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. We're playing hooky today, you and I, and I thought it would be easier if I picked you up here."

"Playing hooky? Are you insane?" She was looking at him like she really feared that he was.

"Oh, come on, Lisbon. You deserve a day off. Live a little."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one whose job is being threatened." It came out more snappishly than Lisbon had intended.

Jane backed off slightly. He sighed.

"Okay, fine, spoilsport. I was hoping I could get you to believe that you were doing something forbidden and exciting, because you could use a bit of that in your life, but since you're such a worrywart, I admit that our day off is totally by the book. I filled in forms and everything."

"You're just saying that to trick me into doing what you want!"

"Not so, Lisbon. Did you know that you've accumulated so much leave that the department is, by law, going to have to force you to take a vacation soon? The guys in Personnel were almost pathetically happy to see that you were asking for a day off. Not that one day will make much of a dent, but it's a start."

"Except that I _didn't_ ask for the day off."

"Meh, they don't know that. And you wouldn't want to break their little hearts by taking it back now; that would just be cruel. Think how dreary their jobs must be if they got excited by the fact that Agent Lisbon has finally decided to take a day off. I can only assume a betting pool was involved. Honestly, woman, do you never take leave?"

"You're one to talk. You must have accumulated just as much leave as I have."

"Nope. All those enforced vacations that Minelli made me take apparently count as leave. Your half a day's worth of suspension during the Carmen mess is rather dwarfed by all the weeks of mandated leave I've had." He grinned at her cheerfully. "You can call the office and check, if you don't believe me. Take your time. I've got all day."

Lisbon pulled out her phone and called the office. Larry in Personnel confirmed that her leave papers were all in order and that Agent Cho had been advised that he was in charge of the unit for the day. Larry also told her cheerfully not to worry about a thing and to just have fun. She had to admit that Jane was right – Larry did sound bizarrely invested in her day off. She looked at Jane suspiciously.

"What did you tell these people?"

"Nothing." Jane was looking much too innocent for her to find that credible. "Are you going to call Cho now?"

He knew her too well. She turned a little away from him and called Cho.

"Hey, boss. Everything's under control. Nothing exciting has happened, but if it does I'll let you know. Have a good day." He hung up before she could say a word.

"Of course," she said to Jane with exasperation, "The whole team is in on your little 'kidnap Lisbon' plan. I should have known."

"The trick with a successful plan," Jane explained, "is attention to detail. Now that we've got all that out of the way, how about you lose the gun and badge and we go out and have some fun."

Lisbon bit her lip thoughtfully for a moment. The idea of a day off was immensely attractive. She really could use the break, but...

"What is Hightower going to think with us taking leave less than a week after her arrival?"

"That it's long overdue? You have just worked seven straight days, you know. And if she talks to Personnel about it, believe me, she'll get an earful! Stop procrastinating, Lisbon. We're wasting daylight here."

Lisbon turned reluctantly and went inside. She left the door open for Jane to follow her in.

"I'm going to change my clothes. I won't be long."

She disappeared upstairs and Jane allowed a big grin of triumph to spread across his face. He wandered about looking at Lisbon's possessions while he waited. She didn't give him much time to poke about, though, returning downstairs in record time wearing jeans and a very pretty top that made Jane's mouth go a little dry (which, he supposed, was at least less obvious than drooling). She had dispensed with her badge and gun, and Jane, who could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Lisbon without either of those powerful symbols of her authority, thought she seemed somehow different without them. Lighter. More carefree. Considerably less scary.

Lisbon blushed slightly at Jane's appreciative scrutiny.

"I have a condition," she said.

Jane grinned. "Of course you do," he said.

"You have to wear jeans today too. If you don't have any, we can go and buy you some."

Jane was amused.

"I own casual clothes, Lisbon. What do you take me for?"

"How should I know? I've never seen you in anything other than a three piece suit. Or," she added as an afterthought, "a tux."

"We'll stop by my place and I'll change," Jane said, reckoning he'd gotten off pretty lightly as far as conditions went.

"Where are we going today, anyway?"

"Anywhere you like," Jane said, "and failing any suggestions from you, I will take charge of the entertainment. I have food in the car, gas in the tank and a map in the glove compartment. The day is yours, Lisbon."

Ushering her over to his car, he opened the passenger door for her and waited politely for her to get in. Lisbon was feeling strangely nervous about this whole unexpected turn of events, so she decided to distract herself by taking out the map and pondering her options while Jane drove them to his apartment. When they arrived, he hopped out while she was still fiddling with the map and hurried around the car to open her door again for her.

"Are we on a date or something?" she asked, quirking her eyebrows. Jane often opened doors for her, but only if he happened to be in the vicinity. He wasn't normally quite so assiduous about it.

"Just being chivalrous, Lisbon," Jane said. He wasn't about to admit that it _did_ feel rather like a date, though that hadn't actually been part of the plan for the day. The distinctly date-like flutter that he got in his stomach every time he looked at her had shown up all on its own, proving once again that Jane's plans never went exactly how he expected them to.

Lisbon followed Jane up to his apartment with considerable curiosity. She hadn't been inside his home before and she wasn't sure what to expect. Jane left her gazing about his sitting room while he went to change. It turned out that Jane owned a great many of two things: books and CDs. There were shelves and shelves of them, plus piles of homeless ones that hadn't yet cracked the nod for some shelf-space. She wandered about interestedly, trying to take in as much as she could while she had the chance. Jane's tastes in both music and literature seemed to be very eclectic, as he had a dizzying range of both. Lisbon was so absorbed in reading the book titles that she didn't even notice Jane's return until he cleared his throat.

Lisbon turned around and was rendered momentarily speechless. Jane in jeans and a casual top was unexpectedly... hot. She swallowed, embarrassed at her reaction, and even Jane had the grace to look a little shy. She'd have bet the farm that he'd rub her nose in it, but he was clearly too pleased, and, if the truth be told, too flustered, to be obnoxious about it. He'd grown unaccustomed to wearing anything other than his suit, and he felt almost as though he and Lisbon were two different people today. Two people who were seeing each other with new eyes and clearly liking what they saw.

She broke the awkward moment by saying, "How do feel about roller coasters?"

Jane smiled. "Thrill seeking. Interesting choice, Lisbon. I love roller coasters. Which one did you have in mind?"

"How about Six Flags?" she suggested. She had always wanted to go there, but had naturally never taken the time to actually do it.

"Six Flags it is," Jane said cheerfully as they headed back out to the car. He had a feeling it was going to be a good day.

00000

Hightower liked information. She knew that the more accurate your intelligence was, the greater the chances were that you would succeed – particularly when it came to controlling other people. Although she was quite gifted at reading people in her own right, she was never averse to getting a second opinion. To that end, she decided to drop in and pay the new CBI psychiatrist a little visit. Dr Williams stood up politely to greet her.

"Agent Hightower, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"Dr Williams. I know you've only been here for a few weeks longer than I have, and you might not have had a chance to meet with everyone yet, but I did notice that there were some files you haven't yet signed off. The ones I'm specifically interested in are Teresa Lisbon and Patrick Jane. Is there some issue there that I need to know about?"

Dr Williams looked at Hightower appraisingly.

"As you know, my files are completely confidential," she said. "However, my reason for not signing off on their files is actually a fairly simple one. I'm sure you know what happened to Agent Lisbon with the last CBI psychiatrist she was required to see?"

Hightower nodded. "Unpleasant business, that," she said.

"Well, from what I can tell, he was merely one in a long line of people in a position of trust or authority in her life who dramatically failed to live up to the role. Mr Jane is in a similar position, but his defense mechanism for coping with it is markedly different to hers. He uses cynicism and complete independence, while she places her faith in the rules and the system, rather than the individual people. And, since you seem concerned, I can assure you that they are both coping exceptionally well, considering the odds stacked against them. The only reason I haven't signed off on them is because I feel that I owe it to them to at least try to show them that some people are trustworthy and have their best interests at heart. The events of the last week, however, have not helped my cause."

"It's my job to make them do their jobs effectively, not hold their hands and cure their hang-ups," Hightower said, not taking this criticism of her methods very gracefully. She instinctively respected Dr Williams, and didn't like being subtly reprimanded by her.

"Undermining your best agent might not be the most effective approach," Dr Williams pointed out.

"You like Lisbon, don't you?" Hightower said, interested.

"Very much," Dr Williams said. "I have yet to meet anyone who doesn't."

"They've both taken the day off today," Hightower said, changing tack. "Presumably they're together." She watched the doctor to see her reaction. Dr Williams seemed surprised and pleased.

"I imagine that's Mr Jane's doing," she said, smiling. "Agent Lisbon is, I'm afraid, a workaholic. I'm glad he took the matter into his own hands. I'm sure a break will do her good."

Dr Williams and Hightower eyed each other for a moment, then Hightower nodded and said, "Well, thank you for your time and your candour, Dr Williams. I wish you success with your project." She looked ever so slightly amused.

00000

Who knew it would be so easy to make Lisbon happy? Jane liked roller coasters well enough – speed always pleased him – but Lisbon... well, she _loved_ roller coasters. Jane had used a combination of charm and bribery to make sure that they were right at the front of the roller coaster, and it had been completely worth the effort. Sitting next to Lisbon and watching her being as perfectly happy as he'd ever seen her was the most rewarding experience Jane had had in a long time.

When they came back to earth after their ride on the Boomerang, Jane asked Lisbon when she'd last been on a roller coaster.

"Not since I was ten," she said, heading eagerly over to the Kong roller coaster.

"Ten! Why have you waited so long? You obviously love it."

"I just never got around to it," she said, shrugging.

Jane gave her an exasperated look. "Honestly Lisbon, you need to learn to prioritise fun occasionally."

"I'm having fun now," she said, giving him a big smile. Well, what could he say to that?

Jane spent the morning following his little roller coaster junkie from one ride to the next, doing his little bit of magic to get them the best seats and then sitting back and watching Lisbon having the time of her life.

By lunchtime they had done all the rides at least once and they both agreed that they had probably done enough loop-de-looping for one day. Jane reminded Lisbon about his picnic lunch, and asked her if there was anywhere in particular she'd like to go.

"It's your turn to choose," Lisbon said to him.

"I'd like to go to Muir Woods, but since we can't picnic there, we could go to Muir Beach first, have our picnic and then go to the woods afterward. How do you feel about redwoods?"

Lisbon looked enchanted. "Oh, I've always wanted to go to Muir Woods," she said.

"Let me guess. You never got around to it?"

Lisbon punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Well, aren't you glad? It makes it all the more fun to go today."

With Lisbon taking care of the directions, they made it to their destination without any difficulty. Jane lugged his picnic basket out of the car and staggered to the beach with it.

"Must be a lot sandwiches in there," Lisbon said, raising her eyebrows in amusement.

"What makes you think I brought sandwiches?" Jane asked.

"Well, you do have a bit of a sandwich fetish," she said, grinning.

"Prepare to be amazed, Lisbon," Jane told her, setting the basket down with a thump. "This, my dear, is a gourmet picnic. Not a sandwich in sight."

Lisbon was suitably impressed with the meal Jane had prepared. Clearly he had gone all out, and she was rather touched that he'd gone to so much trouble. After they had eaten, they sat in companionable silence for a while, watching a family with several small children who were splashing in the waves and swinging on early childhood's exhausting emotional pendulum from ecstasy to tears and back again.

Jane's attention was actually more focused on Lisbon than the noisy children, however. He was trying to work out exactly what it was about off-duty Lisbon that made her seem so different from Lisbon: Law Enforcement Professional Extraordinaire. After a close scrutiny, he concluded that it was because she actually seemed relaxed. Well, sort of relaxed, anyway. Normally Lisbon seemed to be permanently poised for action, as though she was in the middle of a war zone and danger lurked on every side. But now, when she was just being an ordinary citizen doing ordinary things, she had shed all that keyed up tension and was just being. It might, of course, have just been the after-effect of the morning's adrenaline rush. Either way, Jane was a fan.

The walk through Muir Woods was spectacular. The redwoods were almost incomprehensibly tall and they made the forest floor cool and damp, with atmospheric lighting and the thoughtful weighty silence of ancient trees. Jane and Lisbon were too taken with their surroundings to want to talk, so they just wandered along the paths taking it all in in hushed wonder.

The most unexpected event of the day happened when they were walking up a steep narrow section of path. Jane had been slightly behind Lisbon with his hand in its accustomed spot in the small of her back, but when he drew level with her again he dropped his hand to his side, accidentally brushing it against hers in the process. Without stopping to think about it, he slid his hand into hers and held on. Her only acknowledgement of this surprising development was to slide her fingers between his and squeeze his hand ever so slightly. And so they continued their walk under those wonderful trees linked together, silent, confused and strangely happy. It was just one more item to add to the growing list of things they should talk about, but probably never would.

The drive home to Sacramento was quiet, with that happily tired silence that comes after a day spent in serious play. They were halfway home before Jane said softly, "You don't have to worry, Lisbon. I will never let your job fall victim to my stupidity. Don't even give it another thought. This is all on me, and I'll do whatever needs to be done."

Lisbon turned to look at him in the gathering darkness.

"I haven't really been left with any choice but to trust you. I have no control over this situation at all."

"Your mistake is thinking that you ever had any control," Jane said. "The only person anyone ever has any real control over is oneself, and even then, only some of the time. When people work together, they have to mutually agree who will be in charge, but the leader only has as much power as the members choose to grant. The control still lies with each individual. I've never been good at agreeing to allow someone else to be in charge of me, but for what it's worth, I've granted you more power over me than I ever have anyone else in my adult life. I know it's nowhere close to what you need in order to be considered competently in charge of your team, but it's the best I can do. I am sorry that it causes you so much grief, though. I'm sorry _I_ cause you so much grief."

"I know, Jane. Do you think I don't know you by now?"

Jane smiled. "I think you know me as well as anyone ever has," he said.

"I'd know you even better if you let me read your journal."

"It's still driving you crazy, is it?" Jane said.

"What?" Lisbon asked, feigning ignorance.

Jane took his courage in both hands. As Dr Williams had said, it was time for him to step up. "I was saying that I try to keep people at arm's length because it's safer that way, but that you had slipped past my defences. The sentence you read was my explanation as to why I find it so hard to keep you out."

Lisbon sat very still. She was experiencing an almost dizzying sense of happiness, rather like the feeling she'd had on the roller coaster, but much scarier.

"I haven't had much luck keeping you out either," she said, making Jane smile. "You're very persistent."

"I know," he said airily. "It's one of my many fine qualities."

00000

After Jane had pulled up outside Lisbon's house, he reached under his seat and whipped out his journal.

"Can I come inside and do my journaling with you before we call it a night?" he said hopefully.

Lisbon laughed. "You've really taken to journaling like a duck to water, haven't you?" she said.

Jane shrugged boyishly. "It's just another medium for me to be clever in. You can never have too many of those."

He followed her into her house, and she set him the task of making tea while she went to fetch her journal. Jane decided to make toast as well, having worked up an appetite after the day's exercise. Lisbon was unsurprised to find him making himself at home in her kitchen. Helping himself to other people's food was one of his trademark characteristics. Since he was making her some too, she was happy to let him get on with it. It was nice to be looked after for a change.

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 4, Monday_

_Jane kidnapped me today. We'd worked all weekend, so it wasn't that unreasonable, but it still felt irresponsible and decadent to not be working on a Monday. I haven't taken a day off just for the fun of it in... well, I'm not sure if I ever have. I've taken days off before, obviously, but it was always for a very specific reason. Today we just took the day off for no reason at all. It was strangely exhilarating, actually._

_Jane took me to Six Flags to ride on the roller coasters. I haven't done that since I was a kid and my whole family went to an amusement park for the day. It wasn't nearly as big as the one we went to today, but it impressed the socks off 10-year-old me, and I've always remembered it as one of the highlights of my childhood. And I think I'll probably always remember today as one of the highlights of my adulthood. Riding roller coasters was as amazing as I remembered it being, and Jane made it even better by always getting us the best spots on every ride. I'm not sure how he does that kind of thing, but for once I wasn't complaining. He was really sweet about letting me go on as many rides as I liked – not that he didn't enjoy it too, because he clearly did, but I think he would have stopped a lot sooner if I hadn't been there._

_Afterwards we went to Muir Beach to have the picnic Jane made. He's rather an amazing cook. He made things I don't even know the names of, but they tasted like heaven. He really is an interesting guy. How did he get to be so good at such wide range of things? I'd love to hear more about his childhood and where he learned all this stuff, but he's pretty closed-mouthed about his past. He did tell me he'd never been to high school, though. I hope one day he'll elaborate a bit._

_We went walking in Muir Woods, and it really is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. I can't imagine how I managed to live in San Francisco all those years without ever going there before. Jane's right, I do need to prioritise some fun in my life sometimes!_

_On the way home, Jane told me that I didn't have to worry about my job, that he'd take care of it. I don't even want to know what he means by that, but it was surprisingly comforting to hear him say it all the same. He also told me the context of the line I read in his journal, which is kind of a big deal for us I think. I never thought he'd be honest about that. Well, I assume he was being honest, anyway. No, I take that back – I'm sure he was telling the truth._

_Did you say something to him on Friday when he took the journal pages to you? Because I feel like maybe you had something to do with all this. If so, then thank you. Today means more to me than I can say._

_Jane's Journal: Week 4, Monday_

_I'm sitting in Lisbon's house right now, watching her write in her journal, and I don't think that I'm being overly optimistic in my assessment when I say that she actually looks happy. And not just pre-Bosco, pre-Carmen, pre-Hardy happy; she's happy in a way I've never seen before. And I made it happen. I'd like to immortalise this moment as one of my finest masterpieces!_

_I thought about what you said, and you're quite right. This is my mess to fix and it's up to me to make sure that Lisbon is not a casualty of war. I told her she didn't need to worry; that I'd make a plan. Obviously that won't stop Lisbon from worrying, but at least she knows where I stand on the matter. I don't plan to let her down and I think she realises that._

_In the meantime, I got her to take a day off and do nothing but have fun. It took her mind completely off all her troubles and, I have to say, fun Lisbon needs to get a chance to come out and play more often! Luckily for me, she has about a zillion days of leave backed up, and the Personnel guys are getting a bit antsy about it, so I've got plenty of good reasons as to why she needs to take more time off and come out and play with me. After today, I have hundreds of ideas of things we could do, and I intend to persuade her to do every single one of them._

_And you'll be pleased to hear that I did eventually tell her the context of the sentence she accidentally read in my journal last week. After today there didn't seem much point in not telling her. Lisbon and I are, as you pointed out, inextricably bound up with each other. There's no point in denying it or getting all hung up on how it happened. The thing to do now is to figure out where we go from here._

00000

After they had finished their journaling, Jane decided it would be wise to remove himself from the immediate vicinity of Lisbon's tempting off-duty self. She was becoming more alluring to him with every passing minute and he needed to go home and give himself a pep talk. She didn't help matters by giving him a wholly unexpected kiss on the cheek as he went out the door.

"Thank you for today, Jane. I had a wonderful time," she said, and was rewarded with the gratifying sight of a thoroughly discombobulated Patrick Jane. Although he rallied his formidable forces with his usual impressive speed and flashed her his most charming grin in farewell, she wasn't taken in. She had just discovered that she had considerably more power over Jane than she had previously realised, and the revelation was startling, confusing and rather wonderful. She definitely had some thinking to do.

TBC


	5. The Desire to Protect

_Thanks for your lovely reviews. I noticed that no-one commented on the fact that neither Jane nor Lisbon mentioned the hand-holding in their journals! Still so much denial... Anyway, I really enjoyed the last episode. Since I'm following the episodes' timelines (for now), this chapter is based around S2E18 (Aingavite Baa). I apologise to those who haven't seen the episode yet._

* * *

**The Desire to Protect**

Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby were all looking at Lisbon like she was some kind of alien creature who had suddenly materialised in their midst.

"How was your day off?" Van Pelt asked, voicing the question which was forefront in all their minds.

Lisbon gave a little shrug and said casually, "Good thanks," before heading off to her office.

The three of them exchanged looks. She still looked like Lisbon. She still acted like Lisbon. But she wasn't quite the Lisbon they knew and loved. She was a new Lisbon who had actually Taken The Day Off and presumably, since Jane was involved, Had Some Fun. They waited impatiently for Jane to make his tardy appearance so they could get some decent information on the matter.

As soon as Jane arrived, however, instead of coming and regaling them with amusing stories and satisfying their curiosity as to what an off-duty Lisbon actually looked like, he by-passed them entirely and headed straight to Lisbon's office, with no more than a cheerful wave in their direction.

"Okay, he's just doing that to drive us crazy!" Van Pelt said in frustration.

Cho sighed, resigned. "We'll just have to wait him out," he said, philosophically. "The way I see it, Jane wants to tell us this story even more than we want to hear it, so we should just let him come to us. I can outlast Jane any day of the week."

The three of them returned to their work reluctantly.

Jane breezed into Lisbon's office and greeted her cheerfully.

"Someone's in a good mood today," Lisbon remarked.

"Bet I'm not the only one," Jane said taking a seat opposite her. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept like a baby, thank you. You?"

"I've never understood that saying. Whoever came up with it clearly knew nothing at all about babies, since the one thing they're _not_ known for is sleeping soundly all night long. Be that as it may, I slept very well, thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it. Well, now that we've covered our small-talk for the day, I need to get to work and make up for the day I lost." She gave him a pointed look.

"You didn't _lose_ a day," Jane said, looking pained by her choice of words. "You spent a fruitful and completely necessary day recharging your batteries so as to return to work more alert and efficient and everything else that makes an employer's heart go pitter-patter with joy."

Lisbon just raised her eyebrows at him in that meaningful way which indicated that much as she enjoyed his company and as amusing as she found him, she'd really prefer to enjoy his company and be amused by him at some later date. Jane got up reluctantly and left the room, his body language clearly letting her know how vehemently he protested being evicted. Jane often found Lisbon's work ethic very tiresome.

He considered going to tell the team all about his day with Lisbon (not to punish her for sending him away, of course, but because he knew they were dying to know), but then he remembered the other-worldly feeling of walking hand-in-hand through the woods with her, and the desire to talk about it died. He decided to go and lie on his couch and dream about Lisbon instead. Besides, in the long run it would be far more entertaining to torture the others with a complete media blackout on the subject. They were bound to conjure up all sorts of reasons as to why he wasn't telling them, which would give him plenty of new ways to mess with their heads. Jane settled happily on his couch. It looked like it was going to be a very promising day.

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 4, Tuesday_

_I have to admit, I arrived at work today feeling about a thousand times better than I did this time yesterday. Hightower appears to have become entirely snowed under by the backlog of work that has piled up since Minelli left, which I suppose I should feel sympathetic about, but instead I'm just delighted that I didn't see her all day. I'm even somewhat maliciously pleased that she's feeling some of the strain that I've been handling for the last few months. Not as easy as it looks, is it? I'm being small-minded and unpleasant, I know, but that woman __really__ rubs me up the wrong way. _

_You are keeping these pages locked in your safe, right?_

_Jane's Journal: Week 4, Tuesday_

_I'm happy to say that Lisbon has been positively sunny today. Hightower didn't emerge from her lair, which is the first and most important ingredient in any 'make Lisbon happy' plan. The second ingredient is, of course, me behaving myself, which was easy to do, since I spent the day lying dozing on my couch. I had a busy day yesterday, and a good long nap seemed in order._

00000

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 4, Wednesday_

_We got a rather horrifying new case last night – a triple homicide with a fourth victim wounded in the head and unable to remember even her own name._

_I had another run-in with Hightower. She finally confronted Rigsby and Van Pelt about their relationship and told them they have to choose between breaking up or one of them leaving the unit. I can't decide which would be worse – one of them leaving or both of them staying and being thoroughly miserable and uncomfortable. After she'd sent them away she reprimanded me for not dealing with them myself and told me she's putting her displeasure in writing in my file. It's not that I didn't see this coming, and I know she has every right to do what she did, but... well, you wanted to know my feelings and right now I'm feeling rage. I'm pretty sure she could see it too, and Jane, of course, immediately pulled me aside and told me not to bottle up my anger. I take it that I am not very good at hiding my emotions. I chose to express my anger by snapping at him all day – since he was so keen for me to vent, it seemed appropriate!_

_On the plus side, I got to tackle a fleeing suspect to the ground, which was very therapeutic. There's nothing like taking your frustrations out on a deserving criminal. It's one of the things I like about my job._

_Jane is now writing in his journal and shooting me concerned, hang-dog looks. Well, if he didn't want to be in the dog-box, he shouldn't have brought the subject up, should he? He knew it would just make me redirect my anger onto him. And, yeah, now that I'm thinking about it, he probably did that on purpose._

_Jane's Journal: Week 4, Wednesday_

_Okay, I really need to do something about the Hightower/Lisbon situation as it's starting to get out of hand. One meeting with Hightower this morning was enough to kill all of Lisbon's good humour of yesterday. I think even her sadness has now officially been swallowed up in her rage. She's one angry woman. Hightower has got young love (Rigsby and Van Pelt) in her crosshairs, and Lisbon, unfortunately, was caught in the crossfire. That seems to be the theme of her life lately. No wonder she's mad. Aside from her concern that her team is about to get broken up (Lisbon doesn't cope well with losing people), she's also been reprimanded about something that she knows she can't defend. Lisbon hates to be in the wrong and to be caught out being soft must be deeply embarrassing for her – especially in front of a woman boss. Lisbon has tried so hard over the years to appear totally professional and unemotional and in control, and she's undone by one humane decision. Naturally she's taking her irritation out on me. Fortunately I am well-practised in the art of dealing with an annoyed Lisbon._

_I did have one very gratifying moment today when I got to impress Lisbon with my pool skills. My opponent was a kid who was trying so hard to impress a girl that it was a foregone conclusion that he'd fail dismally. I am made of sterner stuff. If I set out to impress a girl, then I generally succeed. I always like winning and impressing people with my skills, but it's infinitely more gratifying when Lisbon is my audience. She's hard to please and I like a challenge._

_I wonder what Rigsby and Van Pelt will decide to do. My money is on Rigsby choosing their relationship and Van Pelt choosing her job. I wonder how the end result will pan out. It would be a shame to lose Rigsby. I'm quite fond of the big guy._

00000

Thursday had ended up being a rather successful day. They had solved their case and discovered the identity of their Jane Doe, who had, as a result, regained her memory. Jane and Lisbon had had a little wobble in the middle when he'd pulled one of his "I did it behind your back so you'd have deniability" stunts and she'd had to restrain herself from doing him grievous bodily harm. He seemed to be missing the point that Hightower didn't care whether Lisbon knew about a stunt beforehand or not – she planned to hold her liable either way. Lisbon therefore wanted him to keep her in the loop about absolutely everything he did so that she could do damage control before things got out of hand. When he went behind her back, he essentially left her helpless to defend herself.

On the plus side, she seemed to have at least one member of her team back on her side. Van Pelt had braved Lisbon's displeasure and let her know what Jane was up to. The fewer allies Jane had for his madness, the less chance there was that he'd be able to pull his stunts without Lisbon finding out and stopping him.

It was only when Jane popped into her office carrying his journal that Lisbon realised that she had left her journal at home that morning. When she explained this to Jane and said she'd just write hers at home, he looked at her as though she was breaking some sacred tradition.

"Can I come over and do mine with you?" he asked.

Lisbon rolled her eyes.

"Don't be silly, Jane. I promise I'll write my journal – you don't need to check up on me like a child who won't do her homework."

Jane's voice took on that slightly whiny tone he got when he thought Lisbon was being unfair to him. "I'm not doing it to check up on you, Lisbon. It's our thing. I thought you liked us doing it together."

Lisbon was getting exasperated now. "It's you who always suggests we do it together, not me. Which isn't to say I don't like it, but we can skip one day without the world falling apart."

She began impatiently gathering her things together to leave. Jane, realising that he wasn't going to win an invitation to Lisbon's house that day, hastily grabbed his jacket and said, "I'll walk down with you."

On their way out, Hightower stopped and commended Lisbon on the successful outcome of their case. Lisbon was clearly startled by this unexpected bit of praise. She had been gearing up to explain and/or attempt to defend Jane's little stunt up at the reservation, and was a little thrown by the sudden change of tactic on Hightower's part. On the heels of her relief came a little rush of pleasure at having the words "Keep up the good work" directed at her for a change. It felt like a really long time since anyone had said that to her.

Her happiness was short-lived. When she and Jane reached the elevator a few moments later, they discovered a distressed, weeping Van Pelt waiting for the elevator to arrive. Jane responded to the sight in much the same way as he responded to imminent physical danger – he fled in the opposite direction with unseemly haste. Lisbon couldn't very well do the same thing, though she would very much have liked to. Instead, she stepped onto the elevator with Van Pelt and wondered in a panicky way what she should do.

As the door closed on them, she swallowed nervously and asked, "Did you and Rigsby break up?"

Van Pelt nodded, but didn't seem either able or inclined to speak. She continued to cry.

"I'm really sorry," Lisbon said, "though I am glad neither of you is leaving the team."

Van Pelt swallowed slightly. Even in the midst of her personal crisis, that was nice to hear.

"Let me know if you need anything," Lisbon added, feeling like something more was required of her. She couldn't quite bring herself to actually offer to keep her company, but figured that if it turned out that Van Pelt was sufficiently desperate to ask her boss to stay and talk with her, then she couldn't in good conscience turn her down. Fortunately for her, Van Pelt also took the view that it would be far more painful to try to talk to an acutely uncomfortable Lisbon than to deal with this on her own.

"I'll be okay," she said, her voice choked with tears. "Thanks."

The door opened, liberating them from their mutual misery. Van Pelt rushed off to her car, and Lisbon headed to hers, almost light-headed with relief. Now that she was free from Van Pelt's emotional turmoil, she allowed herself to feel thoroughly annoyed with Jane for bailing on her like that. Honestly, men were so hopeless in a crisis!

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 4, Thursday_

_It's been one of those topsy-turvy days – the good and the bad all jumbled up together. The good was that we solved the case and Hightower was happy (apparently even with me – wonders never cease). The bad was that Jane still pulled a stunt behind my back and Van Pelt and Rigsby were forced to break up, which is going to mean a lot of angst and tension for a while. What a mess. Feelings are such tiresome things._

_My feelings about it all... Well, I was seriously upset when Van Pelt called me to tell me that Jane had coerced her into another dodgy scheme and had told her she mustn't tell me or Hightower. Does he never learn? Does he just not care? After I caught up with them, he apologised and said he didn't tell me for my own protection. That made me so mad, firstly because that doesn't protect me, it just makes me look incompetent (and surely he's smart enough to know that, which means that he's just lying to try to excuse his own determination to do exactly as he pleases, consequences be damned), and secondly because I don't __need__ him to protect me, I need him to behave! Like I'd need Jane's protection anyway! Please! I can look after myself. Been doing it my whole life without any so-called help from anyone else._

_Though I was angry with Van Pelt for going along with Jane, I am pleased that she called me. At least my team hasn't gone completely over to the dark side. Bosco wasn't altogether wrong when he said that the team was Jane's rather than mine. I want my team back and playing by my rules. One down, two to go (I don't count Jane since he __is__ the dark side)._

_I'm confused about Hightower's sudden change in attitude. I know she's observant enough to know that I'm not a happy camper, but I thought that was the whole point. I thought she was trying to make me miserable, either because she dislikes me and wants to get rid of me, or because she thinks I've messed up and am in need of discipline. Why suddenly change tactics? I don't know what she's up to, but I don't trust her. Although I like the 'be nice to Lisbon' tactic a lot better than the 'blame Lisbon for everything' one, I get the feeling she's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Why, I couldn't say. Maybe I'm being cynical and paranoid, but I'm watching my back._

_The whole thing with Rigsby and Van Pelt, I feel a little bit responsible for. Although they're grownups and made their own choice, I could have done something about it a couple of months ago, and that might have made it less painful. Or it might not. I don't know, but the whole situation is unpleasant. I don't actually think the rule makes a whole lot of sense – feelings are still there even if they're not being acted on, and it's not necessarily true that a person will be worse at this job when working with someone they're in a romantic relationship with than when they're working with someone they're best friends with. It's not an entirely rational rule. People have worked together in family units since the beginning of time – why has our generation suddenly decided that's a bad system? Anyway, I got stuck in the elevator with a crying Van Pelt, which made us both incredibly uncomfortable (Jane ran away, the big coward). Fortunately she has the good sense to know that my shoulder would be a terrible one to cry on. Touchy-feely is not my thing. Besides, heartbreak is something you just have to endure. No-one else can fix it for you._

_Jane's Journal: Week 4, Thursday_

_Well, I had a little chat with Hightower. I sincerely hope that Lisbon never finds out – it would make her extremely upset, as she's touchy about that kind of thing (hers is the kind of cunning that you need to survive in hostile conditions, not the kind you need for cut-throat political games). Hightower and I have agreed to a truce. I'll try not to cause any international incidents and she'll stop gratuitously pushing Lisbon's buttons (well, she didn't actually say that, but it's what she ended up doing, so I'm taking it as read). Our understanding is as follows – if she makes Lisbon unhappy, that makes me unhappy, and I will make sure that Hightower is unhappy too. The converse is also true. She took me at my word and told Lisbon she was doing a good job when we solved the case. Lisbon was understandably surprised, but I don't think she suspected me of having had anything to do with it. As I said, political cut and thrust isn't Lisbon's specialty. She's too straight-forward for that._

_She did get in a rage with me when I 'went off the reservation' (a pun too good to miss, since a reservation was involved in this instance – I would have tried it out on Lisbon, but she wasn't in the right frame of mind to fully appreciate my humour). I explained that I went behind her back to protect her, and since we'd __talked__ about this, I assumed she knew where I was coming from. But Lisbon has always had trouble with trust, and she didn't see it my way at all. All she saw was that I was doing same-old same-old and she was in the same sticky situation. Granted, her point of view is not entirely unfounded, but that's only because she always expects the worst. She just doesn't have enough faith in my methods, even after all this time. I thought she was starting to show signs of coming around before Hightower showed up, so I'm confident I'll wear her down eventually. In the meantime, I'll be sure not to tell her I'm trying to protect her – apparently that's a big no-no. Self-sufficient Lisbon is not an image she wants anyone messing with. Message received. All future acts of protection will be undetectable to the Lisbon eye. (Though, does she really think I'm going to stop? Really? Does she not understand men at all?)_

_We ran into a weeping Van Pelt just as we were leaving the office. I made a quick getaway, which I'm sure Lisbon will hold against me, but I did run Rigsby to earth to find out what was happening. They've broken up (Van Pelt's idea – these women of ours are too independent for their own good), which does mean that neither of them is leaving. Although I'm glad to hear that, I have a feeling that neither of them is going to be much fun to be around for a while. Although perhaps they'll eventually take some solace in the romantic notion that they're star-crossed lovers – they are both the type to appreciate that kind of thing._

_I hope Lisbon isn't blaming herself for that whole mess. She has a tendency to take responsibility for things that are not her fault. It's one of life's cruelties that we are always targeted where we are most vulnerable. Hightower using Lisbon's over-developed sense of responsibility against her is a classic example._

00000

About halfway through Friday morning, Lisbon came into her office after a brief absence and discovered a gift box had been left on her desk. She had little doubt as to who had left it there, a fact which made her approach it with the same caution as if she had been expecting a ticking parcel from an unfriendly assassin. She was still eyeing it suspiciously when the giver made his appearance in her doorway.

"It won't bite, I promise," he said, amused.

"How about explode?" she said.

Jane just grinned. "Come on, Lisbon, where's your sense of adventure?"

Lisbon lifted the lid of the box off and looked at the contents with a slightly perplexed expression. Then she worked out what they were and smiled. She took out the micro torch lighter, the four red wax sticks and the two brass seals. She curiously tipped up the seals to see what Jane had chosen for her. Although they were in mirror image, she could see that the one bore her initials in graceful calligraphy, the 'T' slightly higher than the 'L' and the two letters fitting together with a pleasing symmetry. The other seal was of a warhorse and his knight. The horse had steam coming from his nostrils and he was pawing the ground, clearly as eager for action as the knight on his back, whose sword was drawn and held aloft. The shield the knight carried did not have a traditional emblem like a rampant lion on it; instead it was as exact a replica of Lisbon's CBI badge as was possible in something so small. The knight herself also bore an uncanny resemblance to Lisbon. Clearly Jane had designed the seal himself.

Lisbon glanced up at Jane and raised her eyebrows slightly in questioning amusement. Jane came over to her desk and picked up one of the wax sticks.

"Can we try them out?" he said hopefully. "They only arrived today, so I haven't had a chance to test them yet. I put a lot of detail into little Lady Lisbon and I want to see how well she comes up on the wax."

"Lady Lisbon?"

"Male knights are always called Sir Something-or-other, so female knights must be Lady Whoever, not so?"

Lisbon, now thoroughly amused, gave Jane the lighter and one of the wax sticks.

"Show me how it's done, then," she said, finding him a stray piece of paper to practise on.

Jane carefully melted a blob of wax onto the paper, then he took the knight seal and pressed it into the sealing wax. He didn't get it quite right, though, and the image didn't come out too well. Lisbon, impatient with his ineptitude and suddenly eager to try for herself, decided it was her turn. On her first attempt the image came up sharp and clear. They both smiled with pleasure at the valiant little red wax knight on her magnificent steed.

"You really drew that yourself?" Lisbon asked, impressed.

Jane nodded, pleased with himself.

"The people who make the seal had to do a few adjustments, but the drawing is mine. She does look like you, doesn't she?"

They practised a few more times, testing out the seal with Lisbon's initials as well, and learning how best to handle the wax to get the best image with the seal.

"There you go. Now you can seal your letters with complete confidence," Jane told Lisbon.

"Assuming you didn't make yourself a duplicate set," Lisbon responded.

Jane looked genuinely a little hurt.

"So cynical, Lisbon," he said reproachfully.

"Because you've never given me reason to be, have you? Why a knight, by the way?"

The answer seemed self-explanatory to Jane, but he explained anyway.

"Well, you're always rushing about saving the day, protecting the weak, saving the innocent and slaying evil wherever you go. You're a classic knight in shining armour. I would have thought that was obvious."

He grinned at her sunnily, and Lisbon responded automatically. Jane's smiles were impossible to resist.

"Well, thank you for the very original gift," she said.

"Anything to assist you in your passionate quest for privacy, Lisbon," Jane responded cheerfully. He kept his fingers crossed as he said it.

_Lisbon's Journal: Week 4, Friday_

_Jane is a strange man. Today he gave me sealing wax and some seals that he had designed himself, presumably in response to a conversation we had on the subject last week. The one was fairly normal (my initials), but the other I will use to enclose the envelope I send this to you in, so that you can see it for yourself. Apparently I'm a modern-day knight in shining armour. Jane seems to think that this is a perfectly obvious way to view me. Like I said, he's a strange man._

_Van Pelt and Rigsby are both at work, and neither of them has said a word about what happened. They both look thoroughly miserable, but they're immersing themselves in their work and trying to pretend nothing is wrong. They're not very good at it. The rest of us are leaving them be and letting them work through it in their own time. It's extremely uncomfortable out there in the bullpen, so Jane has moved onto my couch again and he and I have stayed happily cocooned in the safety of my office. Cho is using his usual taciturnity as a shield against the general discomfort._

_Hightower is keeping a low profile. I'm never one to complain about her absence, of course, but thought I would (uncharitably) point out that she has pulled the pin out of the grenade and then disappeared to leave the rest of us to deal with the fallout. Great._

_I'm looking forward to the weekend. I could use a couple of days away from all the drama. When did this place become so emotionally exhausting? It used to just be the actual nature of the work that was emotionally draining, but now there's all this complicated interpersonal stuff confusing the issue as well. Office romances, office politics, office tragedy. It's all a bit much. Not really what I signed up for. And I really miss Minelli. And Bosco. There isn't anyone to rely on anymore. No bulwark of sanity and sense and solidity to ward off the chaos. _

_Well, no point in getting maudlin. I'm going to seal and send this to you, and I'd be interested to hear what you think of "Lady Lisbon" as Jane terms the knight..._

_Jane's Journal: Week 4, Friday_

_Well, I'm hiding out in Lisbon's office today. There's too much emotional turmoil swirling about out there to allow me to sleep peacefully. By contrast, Lisbon's office is an oasis of calm. She seems a little more at ease since Hightower complimented her yesterday, though, knowing Lisbon, I expect she's still thoroughly suspicious of her. Lisbon is not naturally given to trusting people and Hightower didn't exactly set out in the most auspicious way to earn her trust, so I doubt they're going to be BFFs any time soon. That actually suits me fine. I rather like having Lisbon to myself. Of course, I know how much Minelli's retirement hurt her, and for her sake I wish he'd stayed. I think he made her feel safe, and Lisbon needs that in her life. It's not something I can give her, unfortunately. I have many impressive skills, but keeping people safe is not one of them. That's more Lisbon's area of expertise. My little knight in shining armour._

_It's been a mixed bag of a week. Highs (quite literally, if you count the roller coaster rides) and lows aplenty. Lots of drama. I would be quite enjoying the battle of wits with Hightower (it amazes me how many people take me on with the expectation of winning) if it weren't for Lisbon's consequent misery. A miserable Lisbon does not a happy Jane make. Although perhaps Van Pelt and Rigsby have taken that baton for the time being. Actually, a nice quiet weekend away from here is sounding more appealing by the minute. Perhaps I'll even swing by and visit Lisbon. Keep her on her toes!_

00000

Lisbon made copies of her journal pages and carefully sealed them into an envelope using her "Lady Lisbon" seal. She held the envelope out to Jane.

"Are you going to be our messenger again?" she asked, giving him a crooked grin. "You know, I can totally picture you as Hermes, with little wings on your feet, dashing about spreading havoc and mayhem."

Jane plucked the envelope out of Lisbon's hand.

"I prefer to think of myself as a Zeus or a Thor or whoever the really good-looking one was," he said with dignity, ("Narcissus?" Lisbon put in with a naughty grin. Jane ignored the interruption.) "but I will deliver your pages to the good doc, because I happen to be going that way anyway."

Dr Williams smiled at Jane when he handed her their pages.

"Agent Lisbon has entrusted her pages to you again, I see," she said.

"Thoroughly sealed," Jane said, pointing to the wax seal with a grin.

Dr Williams examined the seal and then said, "This knight looks like Agent Lisbon!"

"That's what I was shooting for," Jane said, looking pleased with himself.

Dr Williams sat back in her chair and looked at Jane penetratingly.

"I take it she had a better week this week? I heard you persuaded her to take Monday off which, I gather, is quite an achievement."

"She's a lot more fun than she's prepared to admit," Jane said, smiling a little as he thought about Monday. It had definitely been a good day. "The week has had its ups and downs, but on the whole, yes, it's been a better week."

"I notice that neither of you is bothering to censor the pages you're giving me. I hope that doesn't mean that you're automatically censoring yourself as you write. Don't think I haven't noticed that you're still writing mostly about Agent Lisbon and avoiding really talking about yourself. I'd rather you unburdened yourself properly in your journal and then just censored my copy – these journals are not supposed to be letters to me; they are actually letters to yourself. You seem particularly reluctant to skirt outside a very narrow set of boundaries you've created for yourself here. Even Agent Lisbon is more forthcoming about her feelings than you are!"

"Well, she is better at following instructions than I am," Jane pointed out. "Anyway, I find her more interesting than I find myself. I just write what I'm thinking about." It was only after he'd said it that he realised the implications of that sentence. He raised startled eyes to Dr Williams. She smiled kindly at him.

"Well, in that case," she said, "just keep doing what you're doing."

Jane thought he'd better beat a hasty retreat before he said anything else stupid and revealing. Dr Williams looked thoughtfully after him. She had a feeling things were going to be getting a lot more complicated.

TBC

* * *

_Acronym decoder for those who need it: BFF = best friends forever_


	6. The Open Secret

_Thank you for the reviews (especially those I can't thank individually – I really appreciate your encouraging feedback). So, another slight change in format this chapter, as well as an absence of Dr Williams, since it's the weekend and I thought she deserved some time off. This is really just to keep us going until we finally find out whether there's going to be some decent screen-time devoted to the promising premise of Jane and Lisbon locked together in a shipping container for hours on end. Holding thumbs!_

* * *

**The Open Secret**

Text message from Jane to Lisbon: 'Are you busy?'

Text message from Lisbon to Jane: 'Depends on how you define busy. Does reading count?'

Text message from Jane to Lisbon: 'Depends on what you're reading. Dostoyevsky counts as busy. Mills and Boon does not.'

Text message from Lisbon to Jane: 'Robin Cook?'

Text message from Jane to Lisbon: 'Don't you get enough blood and gore at work? I suppose he counts as busy if you're at the I-can't-put-it-down-until-I-know-whodunit stage. Otherwise, no.'

Text message from Lisbon to Jane: 'I'm pretty sure I know whodunit, so I guess I'm not busy. Dare I ask why you want to know? And why are we communicating in this extremely slow and painful way?'

Text message from Jane to Lisbon: 'You're right, it would be much easier for me to just come over. See you in a bit.'

Lisbon glared at her phone. How could she have just walked into that one? Well, okay, she sort of knew how. Right from his first message she'd known that this was what Jane was angling towards. And admittedly she wasn't totally opposed to the idea. The thought of Jane outside of work had a very different effect on her than the thought of him at work. Especially if he planned on wearing jeans again.

She put down her book and glanced down at herself to see what she was wearing. Hmm, she hadn't really been expecting company, so it wouldn't be like she was dressing up for Jane if she changed into something more appropriate. After all, she'd change her clothes regardless of who her expected visitor was.

Once she got up to her bedroom and started going through her wardrobe, though, Lisbon abandoned her half-hearted attempt to rationalise. The hell with it. She had seen the way he'd looked at her on Monday and she wanted him to look at her that way again. She pulled out one of her most flattering green tops and a pair of jeans that did good things for her figure and put them on. The effect was satisfying. She put on a little makeup and brushed her hair before hurrying back downstairs to Jane-proof her house to the best of her ability.

By the time Jane arrived, Lisbon's home was considerably tidier than it had been in a long time. She kept her home clean, but tidiness had always eluded her. If pressed, she'd probably attribute it to her teenage years when the overwhelming mess of a tuned-out father and three extremely boisterous younger brothers had effectively killed any budding desire she might have had for a neat, orderly home. Truth be told, though, she hadn't ever been prone to neatness, even when she was a child. She always knew where her stuff was, but preferred it to be somewhere conveniently within reach rather than tidied away on shelves and in cupboards. For today, though, she decided it would be much safer to put everything away somewhere, so she stuffed quite a number of homeless possessions into a half-empty cupboard, to be retrieved later after Jane had left.

Jane was wearing jeans again. And by the way his eyes were drifting over her body, her change of attire was having the desired effect. Neither of them bothered to pretend that they weren't checking each other out – they had somehow both accepted that their off-duty relationship was significantly different to their working relationship, and since talking about it was out of the question (and thinking about it was unwise), they were both just going with the flow for the time being.

"Green is your colour," Jane told her, his real admiration clear in his voice. Much to her chagrin, Lisbon could feel her face growing warm under his gaze. Jane lifted his hand to brush her cheek and added softly, but with a tinge of amusement that annoyed Lisbon, "Pink too."

Lisbon stepped back hurriedly to let him in, and he immediately began to scan the room in his all-seeing Jane way.

"Been tidying, I see," he said. "You don't have to pretend to be neat on my account, Lisbon. I'm perfectly well aware that you're not. I don't happen to think it's a failing."

"I didn't tidy so you'd think I was neat," Lisbon said. "I tidied so you'd have fewer things available to analyse."

Jane grinned. "I don't need to analyse your stuff, Lisbon. I already know you."

Lisbon looked sceptical. There were so many, many things about her that Jane didn't know; couldn't know unless she chose to tell him. She wondered if she ever would.

She gestured towards the living room and asked Jane if he wanted something to drink. Since it was mid-afternoon, he naturally asked for tea, but instead of waiting for her to make it, he followed her into the kitchen.

"Must you always get underfoot?" Lisbon asked him, when he got in her way as she manoeuvred around her tiny kitchen.

"Yes," Jane said placidly. He was particularly fond of being underfoot when the foot in question belonged to Lisbon. And even more so when she was wearing an outfit that made his brain swim. The fact that he knew she'd put it on with that specific intention made his brain swim even more. He was exerting all his self-control to keep his hands off her, and not entirely succeeding. He could see she wasn't taken in by the supposedly accidental way he kept brushing against her and yet she did nothing to stop him. If his relationship with Lisbon was like a computer game, he felt as though he had just jumped a level, and was having to figure out a whole new landscape at a whole new level of intensity. It had been a very long time since he'd last felt like this.

Lisbon, for her part, was getting an interesting glimpse of the teenage boy version of Jane. She had plenty of experience with Jane the uncontrollable toddler, Jane the whiny child, Jane the self-important young man and Jane the angry adult, but this was new. A Jane who was clearly thinking inappropriate thoughts about her and struggling not to act on them surprised her. She'd somehow imagined he'd be much more suave in such a situation. She decided she preferred this unsubtle version of him to her imagined version. She should have remembered that Jane was often very obvious about the things he wanted, especially if he couldn't see any good reason to take the trouble to dissimulate.

Fortunately for both their sanity, the tea didn't take long to make, and Lisbon led them out to the less confined space of her living room. She sat on the couch, intending Jane to take the armchair, but he had other ideas and sat beside her on the couch instead.

"So, what was so important that you had to come all the way over here on a Saturday afternoon to discuss it?" she asked.

Jane looked a little surprised. He thought it went without saying that he was here purely because he enjoyed her company and wanted to spend his free time with her.

"Oh, I actually didn't bother to think up an excuse," he said. "I thought we'd reached an unspoken agreement that we liked spending time together, but since we apparently haven't, consider it spoken now."

"You're just here to hang out?" Lisbon asked, a little sceptically. "No ulterior motives?"

"What ulterior motive could I possibly have?"

"How should I know? You seem to have a particularly fertile imagination when it comes to that sort of thing."

"I had fun on Monday, and I know you did too. Why spend our time boringly apart when we could be having fun together? That's about as ulterior as my motives get."

"Well, I hope the kind of fun you have in mind is of a sedentary nature, because I'm feeling a little worn out and not in the mood for adventures today," Lisbon said, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Absolutely. I'm very good at sedentary, as you well know. I'm spending my adulthood making up for my itinerant childhood."

"Ah, yes, the carnie circuit and the lack of formal education. You said it was a long story, so now seems like a good time to tell it." Lisbon curled her feet up under her on the couch and made herself comfortable, a look of anticipation on her face.

Jane thought about it for a moment, and then decided he might as well tell her. As she'd said, now was as good a time as any. He was good at telling stories and this one he made as entertaining and witty as possible, completely captivating his audience. Lisbon didn't ask many questions, preferring to allow him to tell his story his own way, but she was quite fascinated with the way Jane had been brought up. No wonder he was so unconventional. It also explained not only his strange brilliance in certain areas, but also his frustrating obliviousness in others. Jane had never been trained to think in the very specific ways that tame and hone most members of society until they slot seamlessly into the societal fabric. He had massive blind spots where most people had been taught to have intense sensitivity and acute awareness. Fitting in and following rules were quite alien concepts to him, as they had never been required of him – if anything, it sounded as though the exact opposite had been required of him. His father had actively trained him to be unique, special, above the rules. Suddenly he made so much more sense to her than he ever had before.

Telling Lisbon about his childhood was considerably more enjoyable than Jane had anticipated. She was a good listener and he loved having her attention focused on him in this interested, benign way. He'd take Lisbon's attention any way he could get it, but a Lisbon who was clearly enjoying his company was considerably more addictive than a Lisbon who was tolerating him as some kind of penance for past and future sins.

Encouraged by her interest, he also showed her how to do a couple of simple card tricks – the kind his father had taught him when he was a little boy. She was quick to pick them up and seemed rather enchanted with her new skills. If he'd known he could make her this starry-eyed by showing her how to do tricks herself rather than just trying to impress her by doing the tricks for her, he probably would have spilled a lot of trade secrets before now. Who knew letting someone come inside the circle of trust could be so exhilarating?

"Clearly someone should have bought you a magic set when you were little," he told her teasingly.

"My brother was given a magic set and he wouldn't let me anywhere near it. He said he was going to be a magician when he grew up and he needed to practise on his family, so we couldn't ruin it by finding out the secrets for ourselves. I was eaten up with envy and frustration and so naturally I pretended I wasn't at all interested in his stupid games. Fortunately the baseball season started soon after that and we both lost interest in anything else. And that's the whole of my short, rocky history with magic. Well, until I met you, of course."

Jane could perfectly picture a thwarted, annoyed little Lisbon being tortured by her younger brother. The image amused him greatly.

"Well, look on the bright side," he told her. "At least he didn't make you his assistant and try to saw you in half."

"He did chase me with a saw once, but it didn't have anything to do with magic. We were having a disagreement about how to make a rabbit cage and he didn't take my criticisms too well. My dad caught him and gave him a real thrashing for that one. And we were both banned from using any woodworking tools for a whole month, so we never did get our rabbits. Tommy actually cried about that, and I felt terrible because I knew the whole thing had been my fault."

"Sounds like it was more his fault, if you ask me."

"I was older than he was and I was teasing him. It was my fault. Tommy would have never hurt me with the saw, but he could have easily hurt himself running with it like that. And I thought it was funny until my dad freaked out. When Mom heard about it later on, she sat me down and had one of those grave talks with me about being responsible and sensible and looking after my brothers instead of teasing them. She knew whose fault it was. Dad always thought I could do no wrong, but Mom wasn't so easy to trick. She always said that if there was trouble, I was bound to be at the bottom of it."

"And were you?"

"Usually." Lisbon grinned at him with all that sparkly mischief that he loved best about her. Jane had to resist a sudden powerful urge to lean across and kiss her, and he knew she'd correctly read his expression when the atmosphere between them suddenly became charged. Lisbon broke the moment by hurriedly getting up to make them some more tea.

Since they had the cards out already, Jane suggested they play card games, and it turned out that Lisbon was sufficiently good at several of them to pose a real challenge to Jane. Having spent her childhood honing her healthy competitive streak on her brothers, she had learned to be a ruthless and cunning player. Jane found her vehemence and determination to win sufficiently entertaining not to mind too much when she beat him several times in a row. He privately attributed his loss to the fact that he was finding her completely distracting. How is a man to win a game of wits when his wits are completely addled?

They ordered take-out for dinner, which Jane refused to let her pay for. She didn't fight him on it because she recognised the stubborn glint in his eye, and it didn't seem something worth arguing over. It was by this time an open secret between them that they were unofficially dating each other. There was no other way to describe what they were doing and how they both felt while they were doing it. Although they hadn't quite strayed over the line which would put the matter beyond doubt, they were teetering on the brink of it and they both knew it. If they hadn't both had so much baggage slowing them down, they would have stepped over it long before now.

Jane decided it was best not to stay too late. The danger signs that were flashing in his brain were starting to make his head ache, and he thought he'd better go home and have a cold shower before he did something he might regret. Although Lisbon wasn't discouraging him, she also wasn't encouraging him, and Jane knew that was a sign that she wasn't ready yet. If there was one part of Lisbon that Jane knew almost perfectly, it was her body language. When Lisbon gave him the go-ahead, he'd know it before even she did. Until then, he would wait.

After Jane had left, Lisbon went and lay on her couch, turning the day's events over in her mind. Although a small part of her was disappointed that Jane had left without acting on some of the thoughts that had so obviously been playing out in his head all evening, she was mostly relieved. She was treading very dangerous waters here, and she didn't want to do something rash that she would immediately regret. Her head felt woolly and confused, like she didn't know which side was up any more. Jane had that affect on her.

Lisbon suddenly sat up. Maybe it would help if she tried writing it down. Perhaps it was like long division – too hard to do in your head, but possible to work out if you wrote in down and worked through it in steps. Wary of writing these particular thoughts in the journal she kept for Dr Williams, she scratched through her drawers until she found a half-empty notebook. She sat on her couch and started to write.

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 4, Saturday_

_The perfect word to describe me right now is befuddled. After the year I've had, it's just typical that I would decide to top it all off with this confusing, undefined, complicated, inappropriate __something__ that Jane and I have suddenly stumbled into. What exactly it is, I dare not speculate yet. Jane is too puckish and unreliable for me to even consider... what am I considering, exactly? Okay, you know what, not even going there! I mean really, how stupid am I to be playing with fire like this? Have I not __just__ witnessed what happens when colleagues stray beyond the bounds of the professional? _

_And with Jane of all people! Am I insane? And what's he expecting, anyway? Some kind of friends with benefits thing? Seems unlikely, given that Jane knows me well enough to know that I'm not the casual sex type. But it's hard to believe that he's interested in anything more than that. And even if he is interested, that doesn't mean he's capable of it._

_Besides, I already have far more invested in this man than I should. My whole career is hanging in the balance based on his non-existent ability to behave in a rational, legal way. What kind of a fool would I be to then hand the rest of my life over to him as well? The only time I get away from him is when I'm not working – home is my little insanity-free zone._

_And yet Jane outside of work isn't insane. He's not aggravating or headache inducing. He's... fun and sweet and great company. And he makes me feel... I don't know, happy, maybe? More alive. Desirable. And he makes me laugh. All of which is a big improvement over feeling miserable and lonely, which, let's face it, is mostly where I've been at lately. _

_But if we take the next step, then the stakes will be higher. And that means that I'll expect more from him, and I don't know if he can do more. Jane never takes anything seriously – well, none of the things I want him to take seriously, anyway. He treats life as if it's a big game. I don't want to be just a game to him. If he wants me, he __has__ to take me seriously. He has to be prepared to make the same sacrifices to be with me as I'd be making to be with him. I highly doubt Jane is prepared to give up anything that matters to him for me. Which leaves me back at: what the hell am I thinking?!? Idiot._

_You know what? I'm not going to do anything at all. If Jane wants me, he's smart enough to know that there are certain things he's going to have to do to get me. So I'm just going to wait and see what happens. Our lives are so complicated already, with so many things pulling us every which way. I never seem to have any control over any of it, so why would I think I do now? Between work and Jane's chaos and Red John there's really no way to predict how any given day is going to turn out. I'm too scared to plan or to hope. All I'm prepared to say is that if he wants me – enough to do whatever it takes to get me – then I admit that I want him in return. The stupid girl part of me wants him to fight for me. So there, I said it. And confession is the first step, right? So it's a start._

_Crap, I'm in such big trouble, aren't I?_

00000

Jane's body was still humming when he arrived home, so he made good on his threat to himself and took a cold shower. He then wandered disconsolately about his apartment, wishing he was still at Lisbon's. He tried to distract himself in the most reliable way he knew how, by working through his pages of notes on Red John and trying to find something there that he'd never seen before, but even that tried and tested method didn't work.

Instead, pictures kept creeping into his head of Lisbon as a little pixie child leading her brothers merrily into mischief and then charming her father into thinking she was a little angel. He knew that it was Lisbon's mother's death that had frightened that naughty little ringleader into being the responsible, sensible big sister her mother had wanted her to be. And Jane's heart ached for the loss. Parts of mischievous Lisbon were still irrepressibly alive and well under all the layers of protective rationality that Lisbon had laid down since then, but Jane still mourned the loss of what had been killed in Lisbon the day her mother died. The fierce protectiveness that he was feeling for Lisbon was quite ironic given that she was more given to protecting him than the other way around, but the instinctive need to keep her safe from harm, past, present or future, was overwhelming.

Jane was starting to come to terms with the fact that he loved Lisbon, but he still had no idea what to do about it. He noticed after a while that he had been doodling in one of his Red John notebooks while he thought. He smiled a little at the quick sketches he'd made of little Lady Lisbon. Yes, she was definitely in his head and in his heart.

He bravely wrote underneath the sketches, _I love you._

Then he thought about what Dr Williams had said to him the day before about writing some stuff down just for himself, and he decided he might as well give it a go.

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 4, Saturday_

_So, Lisbon has me all turned around. If she knew quite how much, I'm sure she'd be delighted. She loves getting the better of me. She's a competitive little scrapper and she's had a hard time of it with me over the years, but right now she's definitely got the upper hand. I hope she doesn't realise it, or I'm going to be in big trouble._

_She knows I want her, though. That's a kind of power that most women are pretty familiar with, and even my utterly un-temptress-like Lisbon knows how to work it to her advantage. Of course, she then blushed when she got the reaction she wanted from me, which cements her status as a failed femme fatale. Although... her confusion had me desiring her even more, so as seduction techniques go, hers was actually pretty effective!_

_Be that as it may, it's not how I feel about her body that's her real source of power, it's how I feel about her in her entirety that makes me dangerously disadvantaged in our on-going power struggle. But what she doesn't know can't hurt me. Yes, I'm that much of a coward. If I hand my life over into Lisbon's safekeeping, she'll do her damndest to keep me safe – and not just in the physical sense like she's already doing. I have things I need to do before I can allow that. _

_Besides, how do I know I can even give her what she needs? What if I screw up again? What if I lose her? What if I get her killed? But despite all the what ifs in the world, I know that I want her; that I need her. I know she deserves better than me, but there's nothing I can do about that. I just need to figure out if she's on the same page as me, and if she is, whether she's prepared to take me on even with my unresolved issues. I can't allow her to try to resolve them for me, though, and I'm a little terrified that that's going to be a deal-breaker._

_In any event, she's feeling her way cautiously, and I'm happy to take this slowly and figure things out before we do anything we can't take back. Well, perhaps 'happy' is the wrong word. Let's just say I think it the best course of action for both of us. Though, knowing me, I'll probably end up doing something outrageous to push her buttons and make the whole thing blow up in our faces... Still, I have every intention of letting this play out sensibly. Stranger things have happened than me being sensible. It could happen._

00000

True to his good intentions, Jane stayed away from Lisbon on Sunday. He thought it would be wise to give her at least one whole day without his company, since she'd had him pretty much non-stop for weeks now. Too much Jane could be a bad thing – even he was prepared to admit that. Leave 'em wanting more, was a sensible motto.

Instead he skulked about at home listening to music like a love-sick teenager and coming to the strange and frightening realisation that he suddenly seemed unable to 'talk' to his late wife anymore. He'd been having one-way conversations with her in his head for so long now that it had become a part of his way of thinking, but it appeared that his brain somehow couldn't cope with him discussing how he felt about Lisbon with his dead wife. He'd reached a cross-roads and he knew he had to make a choice. Present or past? Living or dead? Real or imaginary?

He'd known all along that his wife wouldn't have thanked him for hanging onto her the way he had, but until now he'd never been able to bring himself to let her go. Initially talking to her had been a coping mechanism, much like journaling, but as time had gone on, he'd started to use it as a crutch; an excuse never to risk his heart like that again. But in many ways he'd lost her by trying to hold onto her. By trying to force her to be there when she wasn't, he'd had to create an imaginary version of her, and the more time that passed, the less resemblance there was between the real woman he'd once loved and the one he carried about in his head. On the other hand, if he relaxed his grip and just let the real her visit him when she chose – in spontaneous memories, and in all the things in life that she had loved or in some way left the flavour of her personality on – she would never be far from him, never be truly lost.

It was a revelation that had been a long time coming, but Jane finally realised that he didn't need to hold onto his wife with a terrified iron grip in order to continue to love and remember her. So he spent a very painful, but also victorious, day letting her go. He was surprised at how immensely relieved he felt, as though he'd laid down a heavy burden that he should never have been carrying. He was no longer afraid that his wife was going to disappear just because he was no longer talking to her. She was a part of him and always would be. Jane felt an unaccustomed sense of peace settle over him.

He started to spin his ring thoughtfully on his finger. He knew that Lisbon thought he wore it out of devotion to his dead wife, but this wasn't strictly true. For Jane, his ring and Red John had become inextricably bound up with each other and rather than simply symbolising his marriage, in his mind the ring had become a symbol of his revenge. And that was something he wasn't prepared to give up, not even for Lisbon. The trouble was that he knew Lisbon would consider his real reason for keeping the ring on to be as much of an obstacle to a relationship as the alternative. One way or the other, that ring was going to cause trouble. Sighing, Jane decided to figure that problem out another day. One momentous change was enough for one day.

00000

Lisbon hadn't really expected Jane to contact her that day. When he'd left the night before he'd said he'd see her on Monday, and she'd known that was his way of telling her that he planned to give her a bit of space. Unfortunately, she found she didn't especially want space. She was strongly tempted to call him, and although she managed to talk herself out of it, she spent the whole day with her attention half on her phone, unable to quite shake the desire to make contact.

On Monday morning Lisbon went to the office early so that she could do a little private research. First she found Jane's file and examined the wording of his contract with a detailed concentration that would have done a lawyer proud. Then she got out the CBI rulebook and with equal attention examined the part of it that pertained to employee relationships. When she was finished, she smiled the smile of someone who has received their first piece of good news in a really long time.

Lisbon wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but she had no doubt it would be interesting. She allowed herself a rare little moment of optimism about Jane and work and life in general. She knew it was rash and bound to end in tears, but she found herself wanting to be just a tiny bit happy for a change. Was that really too much to ask?

TBC

* * *

_And yes, halleluiah, we've broken through some of the denial! This chapter was a bit of a headache to write, so I hope it doesn't have the same effect on you! I think the next one will be fun, though. :)_


	7. The Professional Cheat

_I was amused to see on our latest episode of 'Desperate Housewives' (we're a few episodes behind the USA) that the characters are instructed by their shrink to keep "feelings journals"! So I'm glad to see it's not just a therapeutic tool that I made up because it sounded sensible, but is presumably actually used by real psychiatrists (unless the writers of that show also just thought it sounded good)._

_Anyway, this incorporates S2E19 "Blood Money", so I apologise again for the spoilers. This episode gave me a lot to work with, but it did present some timeline challenges. It clearly picked up at least a week after the last episode and covered more than a week in its own timeline, so while the last three chapters covered one week, this chapter covers three weeks. So, yeah, it's long... and complicated. You have been warned._

* * *

**The Professional Cheat**

The week passed in relative peace. Rigsby and Van Pelt were each dealing with their break-up in their own way – Rigsby was working out at the gym obsessively and had made a point of immediately starting to date again; Van Pelt was throwing herself into her work with additional zeal and pretending everything was fine.

Jane and Lisbon, on the other hand, were circling each other warily. At work their relationship remained essentially the same, although Jane had been sticking by Lisbon's side with even more dedication than usual and had formed a new habit of staying on Lisbon's couch every evening while she worked late, leaving the CBI only when she did. They wrote their journals together, both eyeing one another mischievously as they did so and not attempting to hide how curious they were about what the other was writing. Their journals for Dr Williams actually didn't say very much, though. Things were good. Work was going as smoothly as it ever did with Jane around, but even his indiscretions were so minor (on a Jane scale) that Lisbon effectively overlooked them entirely. Hightower was happy, which meant Lisbon was happy, which meant Jane was happy. They both duly recorded this happy state in their journals and left it at that.

_Excerpts from Lisbon's Work Journal: Week 5_

_Monday__: "We got a new case which Jane immediately labelled as 'mundane' and proceeded to whine about for the rest of the day. I, for one, am a big fan of open and shut cases and was perfectly happy to put away a bad guy with an absolute minimum of fuss. Jane's problem is that he views solving crimes as a form of entertainment and then feels short-changed when they're not his idea of entertaining. He gets the injured air of someone who's paid top dollar for something that has turned out to be an inferior product."_

_Tuesday__: "I spent the day sorting out the rest of the paperwork for yesterday's case. Hightower seems happy with me at the moment, and, having thought the matter over (at length), I've reached the tentative conclusion that she's another one of those people who likes messing with people's heads for sport and/or for some hidden agenda that I probably don't want to know about. Great. Because one of those clearly wasn't enough for me! Since I really don't know what she wants from me, I'm just going to keep going as I have before. What else can I do?"_

_Wednesday__: "Yet another 'mundane' case. Jane really has the mutters now! I'm finding it rather fun."_

_Thursday__: "We've closed yesterday's case, again with (almost) no Jane interference. He insults everyone he meets on principle, so there were a few minor problems, but with Jane, that's unavoidable. The man has impulse control issues. Otherwise everything went like clockwork, and I have to say that Van Pelt is doing some really good work. I'm proud of how she's handling herself in a difficult situation. Rigsby is also not letting his feelings affect his work, so I have to take my hat off to both of them."_

_Friday__: "It's been an unexpectedly good week. No doubt it's the calm before the storm. There's no way things could keep going on this peacefully without Jane blowing a gasket. If trouble doesn't come along of its own accord, he'll manufacture some of his own. I'm bracing myself..."_

_Excerpts from Jane's Work Journal: Week 5_

_Monday__: "We had the world's most uninteresting case today, and I probably should have just stayed dozing on my couch and let the others do their thing, but I thought I'd better help just in case there was more to it than met the eye. There wasn't. On the plus side, I got to irritate Lisbon all day, and we all know how much she secretly enjoys that."_

_Tuesday__: "Today was a napping day. Lisbon was in a good mood, which made me happy. She still has the little dark clouds hovering about her, but she's much more cheerful at the moment than she's been in a while, so hopefully she's starting to deal with some things. She's still not talking to me about it, though. I'm starting to wonder if she ever will."_

_Wednesday__: "Our latest case is, if anything, even more boring than the last. I kept myself entertained by trying to beat my record for the number of times I can get Lisbon to apologise for my behaviour in one day. I notice that it's almost become a reflex for her now. Autopilot apologies, with accompanying autopilot death glares in my direction. Surprisingly enough, though, it's a game I never get tired of. There's something so invigorating about a Lisbon death glare. It always puts a bit of pep into my day."_

_Thursday__: "Lisbon derives enormous pleasure from marking the word "CLOSED" on her white-board of current cases. It's one of the things I can give her that really makes her happy – the ability to write that word a lot. Not that they needed any help this week. I'm getting a bit stir-crazy."_

_Friday__: "Well, let's hope next week will be more deserving of being recorded for posterity. Honestly, if I didn't have Lisbon to play with, weeks like this would be pretty unbearable. I don't cope too well with extreme boredom."_

00000

On the weekend Jane did not disappoint Lisbon's expectation that he would turn up on her doorstep. On Saturday morning he texted her to warn her before he invited himself over, 'to give you time to change your clothes and tidy your home again' as he put it. 'Way ahead of you,' she'd texted back.

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 6, Sunday_

_Spending yesterday with Jane was... rather wonderful. We're so comfortable together, even with all the unspoken stuff we have hanging between us. And the unspoken stuff makes being with him strangely exciting. He made up for what he termed 'a very dull week' by taking me to the batting cages – because he knows I like hitting things, he said. I'm pretty sure, though, that it was in response to my comment last week about being obsessed with baseball as a kid. Jane's not much of a hitter, but he seemed more interested in watching me anyhow. I tried not to let him distract me, but I missed a few balls that I never normally would have, so I didn't succeed especially well. How can a girl concentrate when a guy is watching her with all that intense, passionate interest?_

_Since there was a miniature golf course right next door, Jane persuaded me to play that too. He was a lot better at that than at the baseball, but I still beat him hollow. He didn't seem to care. His mind was evidently on other things. He seemed more interested in making me laugh than winning the game (perhaps he realised there wasn't much chance of that, and concentrated instead on what he's good at). We had a lot of fun, I have to say. When I'm not responsible for him and we're just relaxing and having fun together, he's the most excellent company._

_We went grocery shopping in the afternoon so that Jane could get ingredients for another of his 'gourmet meals', which he proceeded to then cook in my rather functional kitchen. He naturally had several rude remarks to make about its utilitarian nature – apparently I lack a number of essential utensils that I've never heard of before. Somehow he made do without them ("Fortunately I'm a resourceful man," he told me). The food was amazing. I can totally get behind the idea of a man who will cook for me. He actually seems to enjoy it, and I certainly enjoy eating what he cooks. Win-win._

_Over dinner he proposed that our team and a couple of the other teams in our section combine to form a baseball team and challenge the guys in Narcotics and Organised Crime to a friendly game. When I looked suspicious and queried his motives, he laughed and said his motives are very sinister – he likes watching me play and he thinks it'll be fun. The unit could use a bonding exercise and we all like the game, so why not? Jane says he'll be our cheerleader, since he'd let the side down if he actually played (I tried and failed to picture Jane playing a team sport). The thought of Jane as a cheerleader was enough to sell me on the whole proposal. It's not a bad idea, actually, even if it does come from the master manipulator himself, and is therefore not to be trusted. And if he reneges on his cheerleading promise, I'll put him in an embarrassing costume and make him be our mascot instead._

_Jane still hasn't made a move on me, but he's very imaginative at finding ways to touch me without it being too obvious – guiding me with his hand on the small of my back or on my elbow, taking my hand when we crossed the street (and then 'forgetting' to let go again), standing so close behind me in the line at the supermarket that our bodies touched, etc. I like the unsubtle subtlety of it. He makes me feel desirable but not pressured. I get the feeling that he's happy to take this slowly too. Well, I hope so, anyway. He's been out of circulation for so long that it seems natural that he would be cautious._

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 6, Sunday_

_She doesn't realise how beautiful she is, especially when she's having fun. She was aware enough of my eyes on her, though, to throw her off her (very impressive) game. She liked the attention, but still got thoroughly annoyed with herself every time she missed the ball. It didn't seem to cross her mind to tell me to stop staring at her very attractive rear and hit some balls myself. She knew we were both thoroughly enjoying ourselves in our respective (but different) ways._

_She's always so very suspicious, though. Did I do that to her? My suggestion of an informal game with some of our colleagues was completely innocent of any evil intent. I didn't need to come right out and say that watching her play is a bit of a turn-on, as she clearly already knows that, but that wasn't even the main reason I suggested it. I suggested it because I knew she would enjoy it. She'd find it fun. It would be a good release for her – it's competitive, it involves throwing and hitting (two activities I know she likes) and she's very good at it. I know the others would enjoy it too. It was therefore an almost entirely selfless suggestion, though I won't deny that I get something I like out of it too. I wish she'd have a little more faith in me. Not everything I do is manipulative and untrustworthy. Granted not everything I do is straightforward and truthful either, but I wish she had a little more faith in my motives._

_I'm finding our little dance of attraction surprisingly rewarding. Which isn't to say that doing something about it wouldn't be even more rewarding, but I'm pretty happy with where we are at present. I'm not sure I'm any more ready to make such a dramatic leap than she is. There is something incredibly satisfying in knowing that she likes it when I touch her, and that she seems to know I'm not pushing her for more. For now it's enough. We're in sync and we like each other and we're both getting used to the idea of an 'us'. At the moment the only thing I really care about is making her happy. Clearly I'm a goner._

00000

On Sunday night the team was called out for a new high-profile case. One of Sacramento's ADAs – someone they had worked with and liked – had been shot in her home. By Monday morning Jane had identified the killer. Although Lisbon thought that the fact that someone "looked evil" wasn't the most solid reason for suspecting them of murder, she nevertheless took Jane at his word and checked the guy out. It quickly became apparent that their suspect had indeed been linked to numerous killings, but nothing had ever been proven against him. It looked as though he was a hit-man, so the team set up a sting to catch him. They went ahead with the plan that evening, and Van Pelt successfully got him not only to confirm that he would kill for money, but also to show her proof that he'd killed before. He foolishly showed her a video of him killing the ADA, after which the team swooped in and arrested him. It was a very satisfying bust.

_Lisbon's Work Journal: Week 6, Tuesday_

_I'm sorry for skipping yesterday's entry – we were in the middle of an important case and I just didn't have a moment to spare._

_Yesterday we caught a seriously bad guy. If we'd had to rely solely on our cop methods (looking into the backgrounds of everyone who had access to the victim's home), we would have hit on him sooner or later, but Jane saved us a lot of time and effort by taking one look at him and immediately pronouncing him the murderer. Sometimes I really envy him his skills._

_What made me especially happy was that he told me right away what he was thinking. He often gets all secretive and won't let on what he's thinking until he's had a chance to pull off some ridiculous stunt to prove himself right, but this time he told me right away. He did get all agitated about the fact that we couldn't just rush out and arrest the guy even though we were convinced it was him. Even after all this time, Jane really doesn't seem to grasp how the legal system works. He interprets the concepts of probable cause, innocent until proven guilty and the burden of proof falling on the State in a way that bears little relation to reality. He can be very childish in that respect. It's why he so consistently crosses lines and breaks the rules of evidence and procedure – he thinks that proving someone is guilty is the only thing that matters; the means by which you get that proof is irrelevant. The need for rules which prevent State agents from overstepping their mandate and doing whatever the hell they like is a concept that Jane refuses to grasp. Please excuse the rant – Jane's annoying obtuseness on this particular subject tends to get my ire up._

_However, the good news is that this time around Jane let us do things the right way. Everything was above-board and by the book and we got the bad guy dead to rights. It was a good day!_

_Jane's Work Journal: Week 6, Tuesday_

_My journal slipped my mind yesterday – there was a lot of entertaining action for a change and we were preoccupied. I solved yet another case with startling speed. Even Lisbon expressed pleasure and appreciation, niceties that are normally lost in the angry storm of reprimands that she usually feels the need to express about my methods. Of course, that's not something I would ever deny her – clearly the woman needs to vent her feelings and I would never stand in the way of her doing so. Instead, I mostly just stand and take it when she yells at me. It's not like I don't deserve it, and it always cheers her up. Still, it's nice to have her unambiguously pleased for a change. I wish I could manage to achieve such a mutually satisfying outcome more frequently. It is, perhaps, a challenge I should start applying my mind to at some point._

_All in all, the last couple of days have been sufficiently entertaining to please even me. And Lisbon is in an even better mood than she was last week. I hope this trend continues._

00000

Much of Lisbon's time that week was taken up with preparation for the trial of Cale Sylvan. Because his victim was an ADA, the whole process was being pushed through the system as swiftly as possible. Her death had, in any event, left a gap in the docket, and since the defense seemed happy to have a speedy trial, it looked as though proceedings would begin as early as the following week. Much to Lisbon's dismay, however, the defense had taken it into their heads to put Jane on the witness list. Lisbon found it immensely stressful when Jane had to testify in court. In fact everyone other than Jane himself usually found it pretty stressful when Jane had to testify in court. However, there was nothing Lisbon could do about it, so she just put it out of her head as next week's problem.

00000

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 6, Saturday_

_Jane picked me up this morning and we drove out into the country to have lunch at a wonderful little restaurant that has one of the loveliest gardens in California. I don't know how Jane finds these places. He's right – he is resourceful. The food was amazing, so we took our time over lunch, and then we walked around the garden, which was just beginning to blossom into spring glory. We held hands as we walked and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It's like we've somehow become a couple by default. I suppose in the absence of a conscious decision, our subconscious minds made the decision for us. I definitely felt like he was mine and I was his, and the strangest part about it was that it didn't feel strange at all. It's like we've been working our way up to this moment for years. _

_We stayed for tea as well, since we'd already seen their irresistible cake selection (and Jane had seen their impressive tea collection), and although I'm glad we did, I did feel uncomfortably full for quite a while afterwards. I went for a run this evening to make up for it and I now feel much better. I wonder if I'll ever be able to get Jane to do any exercise. The man is getting to the age where he can't afford to just lie about eating all day._

_Oh dear, I'm trying to make him over, aren't I? Clearly I've strayed well into the relationship danger zone. I wonder if it's too late in the game to skip town..._

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 6, Saturday_

_Although Lisbon and I have been in the habit of bantering and fighting and teasing and talking about everything and nothing for so long now, days like today make me feel like I've stepped into an unknown parallel universe and met a completely new person whom I'm just getting to know. I never realised how little I knew about Lisbon and how seldom she reveals anything personal about herself until she actually started talking to me. She didn't tell me anything earth-shattering today (for example about her mother's death or what happened with her father) yet she revealed so many little things about her family and what she was like as a child and what her brothers are like that I feel I know more about her after one day of real conversation than I have in all the time I've known her up till now. Each little anecdote was like a gift of inestimable worth. She's entrusting me with parts of herself I've never seen before and it's the most addictive thing imaginable. _

_I tried to make the day last as long as possible by driving home along all the scenic back-routes I could find and it was already early evening when I got her back home. I walked her to her door using the age-old excuse that I wanted to make sure she was safe, and she (most rudely) thought that was the funniest thing she'd heard in a long time. Be that as it may, I still got to say goodbye to her on her doorstep and it had the desired effect. She kissed me. Admittedly it was so quick that I would have missed it if I hadn't been concentrating (fortunately I was concentrating so hard that I may well have made it happen by sheer force of will), but the important thing is that it was a kiss on the lips. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we officially have our first real (albeit split-second) kiss. I am making a note of the date. This is something I plan to celebrate the anniversary of._

_And the smile that went with the kiss – before she shot inside and shut the door in my face like the little minx she is – was the kind that makes men do stupid things. It was full of mirth and mischief and wonderful promise, with that sweet undertow of vulnerability and hope that makes a man want to conquer foreign lands and bring home golden treasures to lay at his lady's feet. I wonder if Lisbon knows how she makes me feel when she smiles at me like that? I think probably not. Luckily for me!_

00000

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 7, Monday_

_So apparently I've been foolishly building a little fantasy world around Jane and me, because today I felt it come crashing down around my ears. I'm not sure why I thought that with all the changes in our relationship lately I could suddenly trust Jane, but it seems as though that's what I did. What an idiot I am! I __know__ he can't be trusted – he's proven that a thousand times over! What's the matter with me? _

_It's crazy – I should be uncomplicatedly furious with him for causing me to be thoroughly embarrassed on the stand when the defense told me that Jane had conducted an illegal search that I didn't even know about! Way to make me look totally incompetent. I should be even more furious because Jane's idiocy resulted in the case being thrown out and the killer going free. Instead I mainly feel hurt and betrayed. He didn't just go behind my back and omit to tell me what he'd done; he lied to my face – twice! I'm not a total moron – I know that he often gets up to mischief and I try to keep track of him, but what am I supposed to do if he lies to direct questions?_

_So here I am – home on a Monday afternoon because Jane actually got me suspended. Am I really surprised? I've always known that with Jane around, nothing is sacred, nothing is safe, nothing is sane. I knew from the beginning that he was a major risk factor – he puts our lives in danger, he jeopardises our jobs and he endangers our cases. I've always likened having Jane around to those fighter pilots in WW2 who kept getting sent into battle again and again (Jane, in this scenario, is the war and I am the pilot). The more often they went out, the more experienced and competent they got, but they all knew that death was inevitable. If you went out too many times, eventually you wouldn't come back (which is why they retired a pilot after a certain number of active engagements). Well that's me with Jane around – I'm getting better at what I do and I achieve far more than I would without him, but the danger factor is just too high for it to go on indefinitely. Eventually my number will be up, one way or the other. It's a risk that I accepted and understood when I took him on. Most of the time I think it's worth it. Most of the time the good outweighs the bad. _

_Today isn't most of the time. I allowed myself to believe a lie (not the ones Jane told me; the one I told myself) and now I'm paying for it. And I'm as miserable as hell._

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 7, Monday_

_I royally screwed up this time. I totally didn't see it coming, because it was crazy that I got caught out like that. Now I know how criminals feel when their brilliant plans are foiled by the cops. But I can and will fix this. Sylvan is a fool and should be easy enough to catch out, and whoever hired him is still at large and needs to be caught anyway, so perhaps this is for the best. I'll come up with a plan to take them both down._

_But what about Lisbon? The case is one thing, but Lisbon... she's a whole different story. She had actually started trusting me (when did that happen and how did I not notice?) and I shattered that utterly. After the case was thrown out and we had been yelled at by the angry prosecutor, I thought she would just drive off without me. I was initially relieved when she didn't – hoping, I guess, that the damage done wasn't as bad as all that. Lisbon normally forgives me ridiculously quickly. Not today. Once I was shut in that oppressively silent car with her, I knew how badly I'd messed up. I couldn't even bring myself to make one of my stupid, cocky comments to 'lighten' the atmosphere. That's how serious this is. I've damaged something between us that I didn't even realise was there until it was gone, and now I feel gutted. Why am I always such a jackass? You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now._

_When Hightower suspended Lisbon, I was more upset about the fact that she didn't even seem surprised or upset than I was about the unfairness of the suspension itself. Lisbon just seemed resigned. She wouldn't even listen to my apology, though she had to know I didn't mean for this to happen. I tried joking with her about how she was at least getting five days off from me, but she wouldn't even talk to me. She just left without looking back. I'm not forgiven this time. I don't know what to do. _

_I have to fix this._

00000

Lisbon had fully intended to ignore any and all attempts that Jane might make to contact her during her suspension, but on his very first phone-call she caved and answered the phone. And then, of course, he made it sound so important that she come to the docks to meet him that she couldn't resist the pull. Jane was dangling the promise of work in front of her, and Lisbon, like a junkie without her fix, responded compulsively. She closed her computer (where she had logged onto the office network and had been surreptitiously keeping an eye on things) and set off to meet Jane, even though she felt like a bigger fool than ever for doing so.

It turned out to have been a bad idea. Jane antagonised the wrong people as usual and ended up getting them both locked into a shipping container. To their horror, the container was then lifted by a crane and put on the back of a truck, which then set off at a merry pace to deliver them to some unknown destination. Lisbon silently cursed herself for not having stayed peacefully and safely at home.

For the first couple of hours of their captivity they tried everything they could think of to get the container doors open or to pry open or smash one of the container's odd little opaque reinforced plastic 'windows'. When they had no luck with either of those options, they switched their attention to the crates and barrels that were stacked in the back half of the container. They were hoping to find either something they could use as a tool to assist in their attempts to break out or something they could eat or drink. Unfortunately, several hours of thorough searching resulted in the depressing discovery that the container had evidently been used to store nothing more than unused crates full of uninspiring packing materials.

"I suppose it would have been too much to hope that they were full of Swiss chocolate," Lisbon said despondently.

"That would have just made us even thirstier," Jane pointed out. The sun was baking down on their metal box and their exertions had not helped the situation. Fortunately the container was old and draughty, and at the speed they were travelling, numerous gusts of cooler air found their way in at various points, making the heat bearable.

"Totally worth it," Lisbon said, "though I could have also gone for cartons full of apples or oranges or bottled water."

"Look on the bright side, at least the container is so poorly sealed that we won't run out of air."

"Huh. You know you're in big trouble when being able to breathe is something to get excited about. We've been driving for hours now. Where the hell are they taking us? Mexico?"

"What makes you think we're going south?"

"I know we're going south."

"How? We have no way of telling the trajectory of the sun through these weird little windows. Everything just looks perpetually bright. Though, if you're right, we might eventually be able to make out the orange glow of the sunset."

Lisbon shrugged.

"I always know where north is. Always have. My brothers call me the human compass."

Jane grabbed Lisbon's arm and looked suspiciously at her watch. His scrutiny yielded no compass.

"Oh, I see," Lisbon said, "So you're allowed to have inexplicable natural gifts, but I'm not?"

Jane shrugged.

"Just checking. So how long have we been travelling south for?"

Lisbon looked at her watch. It was 3.30pm.

"Six hours," she said. "We should be somewhere near LA now."

"If they really are taking us to Mexico then we've got at least a couple more hours of driving to go. Might as well relax and enjoy the ride."

He started to move things around to make a comfortable space to sit. Once he was done he gestured with his arms and said, "My lady."

Lisbon was too hot and tired to argue with him. She sat down on the 'chair' he'd created from a couple of crates and a piece of tarpaulin. Jane sat down next to her.

"So much for getting five days off from you," Lisbon said.

"I was missing you," Jane said. "Half a day was long enough. I am a thoroughly chastened man."

"Yeah, right. Which is why I'm now locked in a container with you heading for who knows what kind of sticky end."

"You can't really blame me for this, Lisbon. I couldn't possibly have foreseen that we'd end up like this. I'm not psychic, you know."

"You called me up to come and protect you because you were about to do something stupid and dangerous, which means you knew there was a very likely possibility that something could go very wrong. I'm the fool for listening to you. We're just lucky that we're not both at the bottom of the Sacramento River right now. That's the outcome I'd have bet on."

They were silent for a while, then Jane said thoughtfully, "Cho's not doing a very good job of looking after me, is he?"

Lisbon chuckled.

"It's a job for a specialist," she said. "Poor Cho's probably really stressing out right about now. Babysitting you is not for the faint-hearted."

"Well, one thing you're certainly not, Lisbon my dear, is faint-hearted."

They sat and dozed until they were disturbed by a change in their circumstances a couple of hours later. The truck stopped moving, and then they felt themselves being lifted in the air, carried a short distance and then dumped with an uncomfortable bump. Although they banged on the sides of the container and yelled for help, they got no response. They heard the sound of the truck and the crane driving away and then there was complete silence.

Their surprising rescue occurred about fifteen minutes after the truck abandoned them, and came in the unlikely person of a small Mexican goat-herd. He had seen the container being dumped and had come to investigate. Lisbon and Jane felt very grateful for the natural curiosity of small boys. They had a long hot walk across the desert and then had to try to get the local police to understand what had happened to them and why they were in Mexico with no papers. They eventually persuaded one of the Federales to call the CBI and confirm who they were.

After many hours of verifying their story (which involved revisiting the infernal container) and then fussing and haggling about papers and money and transport, Lisbon and Jane eventually found themselves being driven in a police car to the Mexican border where they were ceremoniously handed over to the American cops. They were then kindly put on a bus that was driving through the night to Sacramento and sent on their way.

It was a long and uncomfortable night. Jane persuaded Lisbon to lean against him and try to sleep, but she only managed a fitful half-doze that left her less refreshed than if she'd just stayed awake. Jane didn't even attempt to sleep. Instead, he passed the time working out who their killer was and then coming up with a plan to catch him.

All Lisbon wanted to do when they arrived in Sacramento the next morning was to rush home and shower, but Jane dragged her straight from the bus station to the courthouse to set in motion some stupid new plan he'd been cooking up in the night. Lisbon was so tired that she didn't even protest. She just followed him into Judge Hildred's courtroom and watched him get himself arrested. It was almost a relief. With Jane safely in jail, she could go home, shower and then sleep and sleep and sleep. Which is exactly what she did. Her team had kindly retrieved her car from the docks for her, and had even found her phone, wallet, keys and gun which their kidnappers had taken from her before they put her in the container. It was wonderfully empowering to be in charge of her own destiny again. Not having control of her life was Lisbon's worst nightmare.

00000

When Lisbon answered her phone the next morning, Jane said plaintively, "You wouldn't answer your phone yesterday. Are you really still so angry with me that you wanted me to spend the night in jail?"

"I figured you'd make a plan," Lisbon said, "which, since you're calling from your cell-phone, you must have done."

"Cho bailed me out. I need you to come to my informal hearing today. You're not going to want to miss this."

"On the contrary, I very much want to miss it," Lisbon retorted. She'd had enough of Jane for one week.

Jane's voice took on a wheedling tone.

"Please, Lisbon. I'm going to solve the case today and you need to be there to take credit."

Lisbon had really been looking forward to a peaceful day at home, but she seemed to have lost her ability to say no to Jane. By the time she arrived at the courthouse, she was rather looking forward to whatever was coming. Jane was right, she didn't like to miss out on things. She'd rather be there and have to deal with the fallout than be left out. One thing you could never accuse Jane of was being boring.

And he was also right about solving the case. In his own uniquely bizarre way, he flushed out the man responsible for ordering the hit on Kelly Flower. Lisbon was able to make her arrest and get her confession, just as Jane had promised. And, as he had hoped, Lisbon's suspension was lifted as a result. Their relationship remained strained, however. Some things are harder to fix than others.

"You wanna go to the range? Shoot something?" Jane suggested to Lisbon.

"I'll drive," she responded, already striding away with a determined air. Jane followed her.

Watching her shoot wasn't as much fun as watching her hit baseballs, but Jane did derive comfort from the fact that she was evidently finding it a therapeutic exercise. There was also a certain frightening gravity in the knowledge that her skill with a gun had saved his life on more than one occasion and would, no doubt, save it again in the future. Observing her intense concentration and her fierce expression, Jane wondered if she was picturing him as the target. With every squeeze of the trigger he flinched slightly, wondering a little desperately if she was going forgive him as she had so many times before, or whether he had pushed the boundaries at the wrong moment and had broken beyond repair that fragile something that had been growing between them lately. Jane had reached the point where he was ready to beg if need be.

It didn't occur to either of them to suggest that Jane do a little target practise. They stuck with their accustomed roles of Lisbon doing something practical and Jane watching her. When she got tired of shooting, Jane suggested that they go out and have some dinner. He looked at her so pleadingly that she didn't have the heart to say no.

He took her to a quiet little restaurant and while they were waiting for their appetizers, Jane finally broached the matter that had been stifling them all evening.

"I'm so sorry, Lisbon. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to break your trust."

"So why did you lie to my face then?"

Jane considered his answer for a moment, then he looked her in the eye and said, "Because I always want to have my own way and do things the way I want to do them, but I also don't want you to get into trouble or be upset, so I lie to get the best of both worlds and usually I get away with it." He paused for a moment, then continued. "I don't think I'll ever be able to completely change that about myself, so there's no point in making empty promises, but that doesn't detract in any way from how much I love you."

Lisbon became very still and looked at him with big astonished eyes. Jane reached across the table and took her hand.

"Can you put up with me anyway, glaring imperfections notwithstanding?" he asked, his heart in his mouth.

"So you want me to give you carte blanche to do whatever you like and lie to me whenever the truth might be troublesome because it's just a part of who you are, is that it?"

"Pretty much."

"And what do I get out of this deal?"

"My undying devotion," Jane said, and his expression was completely serious. "I wish I was a better man, someone more deserving of you, but I can't pretend to be what I'm not. But, Lisbon, you know exactly who I am and yet you've put up with me this long. The question is, if the stakes are higher, are you still prepared to put up with me? Because we both know this won't be the last time I screw up. You said it yourself – I'm a disaster waiting to happen."

"Well, that's not exactly how I put it."

"Close enough. I love you, Lisbon. Is that enough?"

She tightened her hold on his hand slightly.

"I guess it'll have to be. I think I'm in too deep to get out now."

"Is that Lisbon for 'I love you too, Jane'?"

She grinned.

"Close enough."

He smiled back at her, the weight of panic finally rolling away and leaving in its wake a very happy man.

After dinner, Lisbon drove Jane back to the CBI to fetch his car. Before he climbed out of hers, though, he reached across and kissed her very softly on the lips.

"Goodnight, Lisbon. I'll see you in the morning, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and eager to work. You, that is, not me. I'll be bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and eager to watch you work."

"Goodnight, Jane," she said, her voice laced with laughter.

As she drove away, Jane said quietly after her, "Goodnight, my love."

TBC

* * *

_I may be veering off completely from the episodes at this point since it's getting really hard to reconcile the two, but I'll only make a decision once I've seen the next episode. At most I'll use the next two episodes and then finish off the story my own way, but I just wanted to warn you that this might be the last episode-related chapter._


	8. The Reasons

_Thank you for your kind reviews! Tiffa – I had intended to follow the episodes through to the end of the season, but based on what I've read about the last two episodes of the season, I've realised that my story and the show are going to be experiencing irreconcilable differences (as they say in divorce proceedings) that I'm not going to be able to overcome. Hence my warning. However, I really enjoyed S2E20 ('Red All Over'), so it is included in this chapter (__Note__: Spoiler Alert!). Hopefully the next episode will be equally amenable. Who knows, even the last two may redeem themselves in some unexpected way – press releases can be deceptive. But they're on probation – I'll only decide once I've seen them._

* * *

**The Reasons**

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 7, Thursday_

_Patrick Jane said 'I love you' to me. Twice. And he sealed it with a kiss. So I guess that makes 'us' official. I should probably be freaking out right now, but I've decided I'm going to put off the panic until tomorrow and take tonight to just revel in the fact that the man whom I have misguidedly fallen in love with actually loves me back. And I know he wasn't just saying it to try and fix the mess he'd made. I know him. When he does something, he does it wholeheartedly (some might say 'obsessively') and I recognised that gleam in his eye. He meant every word._

_So instead of thinking of all the many, many reasons why this is the dumbest thing I've ever done, I'm going to list all the reasons why Jane and I are perfect for each other. So I don't forget._

_1) We make each other laugh and enjoy each other's company. Even when he's driving me crazy or has got me into a rage, I still always want him around. For years now, part of the reason I look forward to going to work is because I'm looking forward to seeing him._

_2) We understand each other and (dare I say it) respect each other. We may not agree about a lot of things, but we do know where the other one is coming from. I suppose we're best friends. We get each other._

_3) We know each other's failings even better than our strengths, so we're going into this with our eyes wide open. Knowing someone's limitations and still wanting them is oddly restful. Instead of nasty surprises awaiting us as we get to know each other better, I think Jane and I will have the opposite experience – we'll find pleasant surprises we didn't know were there. I, for one, am more inclined to under-estimate Jane's relationship skills than the other way around and I have a feeling he does the same with me._

_4) In many ways we complement each other – I am strong where he isn't and vice versa._

_5) We're both damaged in ways that make us uniquely able to understand and forgive each other's brokenness. We're not young and idealistic. We expect the worst and anything else is a nice surprise._

_6) We're different enough to keep surprising each other but similar enough to find each other's company restful even when we're together for really long stretches of time._

_7) We find each other extremely attractive. I'll have to withhold judgement on what our physical relationship is going to be like until I've actually experienced it, but I have pretty high hopes in that department. I mean, this is a man who can perfectly read my body language just by looking at me or touching me... (Okay, so yes, there are some things about Jane that I don't have low expectations about!)_

_8) He makes me feel beautiful in a way I never have before – beautiful and desirable and beloved. I'm not sure how I make him feel exactly, but whatever it is, he seems to like it._

_9) He loves me. I love him._

_10) Oh, and last but not least. The man cooks. Need I say more?_

_I'm not going to make a list of reasons why this is a disaster in the making. I think those are glaringly self-evident and there's no point in dwelling on them. I'm in this now, so I'm just going to have to deal with the crises as they come. I've had a lot of practise in that department. Besides, even if no-one believes it but me, I know I can handle Jane. Isn't he still alive, still working, still (more or less) sane, still free, still mine? People don't seem to realise quite what an achievement that is. And it's my achievement. He's mine and I'm going to look after him even if it kills me. Which it could easily do, but I'm committed and it's a risk I'm prepared to take. You know what they say: the greater the risk, the greater the reward._

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 7, Thursday_

_She forgave me. Again. How does she forgive like that? It's an amazing thing. And then she seems surprised that I love her! What's not to love?_

_She didn't say 'I love you' back, and somehow that makes me love her even more. I know she'll suddenly say it of her own accord when I least expect it. Playing hard to get and an instinctive reluctance to commit herself are hardwired into her. She works through things in her own time and has such huge difficulty expressing her feelings verbally (except anger – that's her emotional area of excellence), but her body language is so expressive that it makes words largely superfluous._

_Hmm. I'd better find out whether she wants us to be clandestine. If so, I need to teach her a few tricks or she'll give us away._

00000

On Friday morning Lisbon came into her office to find that there were four medium sized brown cardboard boxes on her desk. They were taped closed with packing tape, so she used her scissors to cut them open. The first one contained half a dozen bottles of water. The second was full of oranges. The third was full of apples, both red and green. The last was full of various types of Lindt chocolate. Jane made his appearance just in time to see the huge grin that the contents of that last box elicited.

"It was the least I could do," he said, when she looked up at him with dancing eyes.

"Well, I won't dispute that," Lisbon said, "but it was still very sweet. Thank you."

"You're surprisingly easy to please, Lisbon."

"Well," she said, grinning naughtily at him, "I have low standards."

"Funny."

Rigsby, presumably scenting food, looked into Lisbon's office to say good morning. He eyed her boxes with interest.

"I'm trying to make up to her for getting her stuck in a container for over eight hours with nothing to eat or drink," Jane explained.

"Ah," Rigsby said, enlightened. He was bit disappointed. He'd been hoping they were going to have some sort of celebratory party because Lisbon's suspension had been lifted, but it was clearly just another one of those weird gifts that Jane got Lisbon from time to time. "Welcome back, Boss. We missed you."

"Thank you, Rigsby. I missed me too. You guys did some good work while I was gone, though. Good job."

Rigsby beamed. He was suddenly very glad indeed that he hadn't transferred to San Francisco. He loved working here. These people were like his family. He still didn't agree with Van Pelt's decision to break up with him, but she had been right about the fact that he hadn't wanted to leave the CBI or Lisbon's team.

He went to the bullpen to tell the other two that all was right with the world once more. Lisbon was back, and Jane was making her smile by giving her peculiar gifts. All's well that ends well, as the Bard said.

"So," Jane said, after Rigsby had gone, "what's the best excuse for not having done one's homework? 'The dog ate it' is, I gather, an old classic."

"Huh?" Lisbon looked blank. She couldn't imagine what kind of work Jane would feel bad about not having done. Did he actually do work? Nothing sprang to mind.

"Our journals, Lisbon. We haven't exactly been keeping up with them this week."

Lisbon looked startled and then repentant.

"It's Friday already! Well, I haven't actually _been_ at work this week. I'm sure she only expected us to keep the journals on the days we were working."

Jane nodded, testing the excuse out in his head.

"Sounds plausible to me," he said approvingly.

Lisbon glared at him.

"It's the truth! I'm not trying to make an excuse."

"Well, in that case I'm sure you won't mind being the one to tell her."

Lisbon immediately looked reluctant. She had a very distinctive 'I don't want to' face and she was wearing it now.

"But you always take our pages to her, Hermes," she said, "You can't bail just when the going gets tough."

Jane cocked his head on one side.

"Maybe we should tell her together," he suggested.

"In other words, I'll have to do the talking and you'll stand there looking like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth."

"On the contrary, I will explain that it is all my fault and your reputation will remain as pure as the driven snow, my little teacher's pet."

Lisbon glowered at him, but allowed him to usher her out the door and down the corridor.

Dr Williams looked up when they knocked and said in a pleased tone, "Agent Lisbon and Mr Jane! Just the people I wanted to see."

She gestured for them to sit down, which they did.

"I had planned to speak to you on Monday, but your lives got a little exciting around that point and I didn't get the chance. I wanted to let you know that I've signed off on your files."

Both Jane and Lisbon looked surprised.

"You've both done what I asked you to do and have, in some ways, been more forthcoming than I ever expected you to be. I would very much like you to continue writing your journals for me, but you are under no obligation to do so. It's up to you."

Jane and Lisbon looked at each other for a moment.

"What with one thing and another, we forgot this week," Jane said, "but I don't mind keeping it up for a while. It's actually been quite an eye-opener. You're right, Doc, it is a powerful tool."

Dr Williams looked at Lisbon to get her confirmation that Jane was speaking for both of them.

"It's good discipline," Lisbon said, nodding. "We'll keep going."

Dr Williams gave them a lovely smile.

"I'm so glad you feel that way," she said, as they got up. Then she added, "And I'm always here if either of you ever wants to branch out and actually talk about anything."

They smiled at her before Jane followed Lisbon out with his hand on the small her back. Dr Williams looked after them thoughtfully. It seemed that they were leaving rather more out of their journal entries than she had previously realised. But they also seemed much happier than they had been when she'd met them a couple of months previously, so she decided to hope for the best.

00000

At about midday on Saturday Jane turned up on Lisbon's doorstep. He hadn't even bothered to let her know he was coming this time, because he knew she was expecting him.

"I've been thinking," Jane said when she opened the door.

"Uh-oh," she responded, quirking her eyebrows. "And hello to you too. I don't recall inviting you over."

"That's not a part of our ritual. I always invite myself. And you would have been very irritated if I hadn't turned up when you were expecting me to."

They had got as far as the kitchen by this point in the conversation, and Lisbon automatically began making tea. Jane got underfoot, since he'd apparently decided that was also a part of their ritual.

"Anyway, since you didn't ask, what I was thinking was that we should prove Van Pelt wrong."

Lisbon didn't ask him what he was talking about because she knew he wanted her to and she was in the mood for giving him a hard time. If he decided that he had the upper hand in their relationship then she was doomed. She needed to keep him on his toes.

Jane was amused with Lisbon's determined silence. He liked it when she engaged in power play with him. It was invigorating.

"Remember that case where that couple were killed in their car on the way to their high school reunion?" he went on. "Well, Van Pelt made some crack or other about them being too old to be necking."

Lisbon had a feeling she knew where the conversation was heading now. She shot Jane an amused look, one eyebrow slightly raised, but she still didn't comment.

"Well, you and I are several years older than they were and I would be happy to spend as much time as you have available proving Grace wrong."

"I think it was more the idea of adults necking in a car parked in a local lovers' lane that made Van Pelt make that remark, and not so much the idea of them necking in general. You're not suggesting we go and make out in your car, are you?"

"I would be happy to make out with you anywhere, Lisbon. But considering how much time we spend in cars, I have a feeling that we'll have plenty of opportunities to explore that aspect of the question in the future. Today I was thinking the couch would be a good spot."

Lisbon handed him his tea and led him to the living room. She intentionally sat in one of the chairs, instead of on the couch. Jane, with a little grin, sat on the couch.

"Feeling contrary today, I see," he said. "Anyway, while I was pondering the fascinating question of the age-appropriateness of necking, it occurred to me that I missed out on several enjoyable rites of passage when I was a kid, and that you probably did too. One of them being spending a day doing nothing but make out with someone. So that's what I think we should do today. Reclaim our lost youth and all that."

"I'm not sure that it's something you plan in advance," Lisbon said, grinning. "Day planner entry for Saturday: Make out all day with age-appropriate partner."

"How would you know? I'm sure you're not speaking from experience."

"Well... no," Lisbon admitted.

"See? Me neither. So?" He patted the couch beside him and grinned at her.

She just looked at him mischievously over the edge of her mug and didn't budge.

"You're not going to make me come and get you, are you?" He gave her a plaintive look.

"Jane, you're being ridiculous. I'm not agreeing to spending the day kissing you. That's just..." she trailed off, at a loss for words. "I know you hear this a lot, but it bears repeating: you're a very strange man."

"Come on, Lisbon, we both know that that's one of the things you like about me."

"Besides, you seem to have forgotten that we're meeting the others for a baseball practice this afternoon at two. For the game that you suggested."

He got up and went over to Lisbon.

"Well, in that case we need to move things along here. If you won't come to me, I'm happy to come to you," he said, and made as if he was going to sit on her lap.

Lisbon knew when she was beaten. She shoved him away and said, "Fine, I'm coming to sit on the couch."

Jane let her stand up, then he pulled her very gently to him and kissed her. Lisbon leaned instinctively into his kiss and they both immediately forgot about the couch and got lost in each other. The intrusive sound of Lisbon's phone interrupted them. Jane growled under his breath as Lisbon slipped out of his arms and answered her phone.

She made a regretful face at him when she hung up.

"Sorry, Jane. We have a case. The new CEO of Harrington Media was just murdered at his own party. I guess we'll have to reclaim our lost youth another time."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Jane said. "You know, I wish murderers would have a little consideration and confine their activities to weekdays."

"It's never bothered you before. You usually seem quite happy to have your weekend interrupted."

"That was when I had nothing better to do," Jane said irritably. "I have something _much_ better to do right now!"

Lisbon had the feeling that it was going to be a long day.

00000

Not much headway was being made with the case. On Monday morning Lisbon and Jane drove back out to the Harrington Estate where they met with several members of the Harrington family, but the moment Jane heard that a cult might somehow be involved, he abandoned Lisbon in favour of following up on that juicy lead with Cho. Having had some excellent entertainment at Visualize, he then spent his afternoon comfortably dozing on his couch at the office.

He was woken by a phone-call from Lisbon that tilted his world off its axis. Why the infernal woman thought that finding a bomb that was about to go off was a better idea than legging it in the opposite direction, he didn't know. Sometimes Lisbon was a complete mystery to him. For several long moments he thought he'd lost her and his relief at hearing her voice was followed by a quick surge of anger that she would have risked her life like that.

Lisbon didn't go back to the office once she'd finished dealing with the bomb squad. It was late and she was exhausted after her stressful afternoon, so when she finally got back to Sacramento she decided to just go straight home. Jane was waiting for her, leaning against her door.

"Don't do that to me again," he said, by way of greeting.

"What, you didn't find it cathartic and life-affirming to think that someone you loved was about to die? I was under the impression that you approved of me having near-death experiences."

She unlocked her door and Jane followed her inside.

"Lisbon, I mean it! When someone says there's a bomb in a room, you're supposed to get as far away from it as possible. I realise your job has warped your sense of self-preservation somewhat and you've got into the bad habit of running towards danger instead of away from it, but you need to start using some common sense, woman!"

"I saved a little girl's life. Isn't that my job?"

"Yes, and I'm incredibly proud of you. But please don't do anything like that again. Besides, I can think of a much more life-affirming activity we can indulge in, if that's what you're after."

He slid his arms around her and pulled her to him, relishing her wonderful warm, soft aliveness. Lisbon relaxed against him and gave a little sigh of contentment. After a few moments, she stepped back and Jane raised his eyebrows at her suggestively. She just shook her head slightly.

"There's a whole conversation we have to have before we go there, Jane," she said, vaguely gesturing in the direction of his left hand, "and I'm too tired for that tonight. But if you want to cook me dinner..." she trailed off hopefully.

He leaned down and kissed her.

"Go and have a nice relaxing bath and when you're finished, a feast will await you," he said.

She turned towards the stairs, then paused and looked back at him.

"Patrick," she said, testing the word out cautiously. Jane gave her a little grin.

"Teresa?"

"I love you too," she said. She then turned away and hurried up the stairs, leaving a slightly stunned Jane staring after her.

When he regained his equilibrium, he called after her, "See, I told you near-death experiences were life-affirming!"

"Shut up, Jane!" she called back.

00000

_Jane's Work Journal: Week 8,Tuesday_

_Yesterday Lisbon nearly got herself killed. My emotions were panic, cold dread, fury, admiration and pride, in that order. It shaved a few years off my life, I can tell you that much. Ever the heroine, our Lisbon. She saved a little girl's life. What am I to do with her?_

_When we went to speak with the little girl's family, they were suitably grateful for Lisbon's heroics. It was sweet the way she responded to their praise and gratitude. Lisbon needs to be told how amazing she is more often._

_Today we met a man who kept making snide remarks that indicated that he wondered why Lisbon keeps working with me. He also needled me about Red John and what happened to my family, but it was the comments about Lisbon that hit home. I've heard the rest a thousand times before, but to have someone so clearly wonder why she puts up with me... it was surprisingly unsettling and upsetting. My relationship with Lisbon isn't something that anyone has a right to meddle with! The last thing I need is a total stranger reinforcing in Lisbon's mind that I'm untethered and reckless – it's enough of a sticking point between us as is it without someone else adding fuel to the fire._

_I'm more tethered than she thinks, though._

_Lisbon's Work Journal: Week 8,Tuesday_

_I had yet another near-death experience yesterday and although I saved a child's life, I'm afraid I possibly didn't acquit myself quite as well as I'd have liked. The child dove under the couch and wouldn't come out and we both came very close to dying as a result. Kids and temper tantrums are best not mixed with imminent death – it doesn't bring the best out of one! Anyway, by some miracle the wires I yanked stopped the bomb, so we lived to tell the tale. Jane was understandably a little upset with me, but after all the times he's done much the same thing to me, he really doesn't have a leg to stand on! Rushing recklessly into danger is something we actually have in common, now that I'm thinking about it. It's probably not a particularly useful characteristic to share, but at least we can't judge each other too harshly!_

_Hightower commended me on my 'bravery' today, after the family called her and sang my praises. She seemed to really mean it, too. Despite everything, I think she actually quite likes me after all. There's a little gleam of understanding that she sends my way every now and then – although I don't necessarily think she'll ever be 'in my corner', being the political creature she is, I also don't think she'd throw me to the wolves quite as willingly as I was first led to believe. So that's quite a relief. I feel that I can stand up to her a little now; question her interference in my team; set some boundaries, and that she'll respect that and not hold it against me. Perhaps I've been tested and haven't been found wanting? Up to a point, anyway._

_We met an unpleasant man today who pushed all of Jane's buttons. Red John, his grief and anger about his family, his recklessness and how that must affect his relationship with me. He didn't miss the mark once. Poor Jane. He's so arrogant most of the time that I usually can't wait for someone to take him down a peg or two, but this was just upsetting. I like a battle of wits as much as the next person, but I don't approve of low blows. Jane usually gets away with so much because most people draw the line at using a man's dead family against him in a game of words – and Jane is, quite frankly, still frighteningly vulnerable on that front. I wonder if he'll ever heal enough that his loss will become a part of his past and no longer the defining characteristic of his present._

After they had finished writing in their journals, Jane went and sat on Lisbon's couch. Closing her door, she came and sat down next to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking worriedly at him.

Jane smiled and touched her face gently.

"Stiles is right," he said, "you are more beautiful than advertised. When I angling to work with the team that had the Red John case, I asked around about you and one of the things that was always mentioned was how pretty you were. Then I actually met you and thought 'Pretty? She's not pretty, she's beautiful!' But it wasn't exactly something I could say to you at the time. I can say it now though. I think that people take it for granted that you know that you're beautiful and courageous and amazing, but I don't think that you do. So I plan to tell you. A lot."

Lisbon looked a little embarrassed, but also very pleased. Jane loved how compliments flustered her.

"Can I take you out to dinner?" he asked.

Lisbon nodded, and got up to gather her things. The little flutter of nervousness that Stiles' comments had inspired in Jane subsided. His Lisbon was loyal to a fault and she loved him. What did Stiles know, anyway?

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_Lisbon's Work Journal: Week 8,Wednesday_

_Well, that was a depressing case. I didn't much like the method we used to catch the killer either. And the whole bomb thing (which was a completely separate issue) hasn't been resolved completely to my satisfaction. All in all, it was a technically successful but nevertheless emotionally unfulfilling day._

_Jane got punched in the face again. I'm surprised he's retained his good looks as long as he has, given how often that happens._

_Jane's Work Journal: Week 8,Wednesday_

_I wish people would stop punching me in the face. Violence is so uncivilised!_

_The case was an unpleasant one. I'm always happy to catch a killer, no matter what the circumstances, but I admit that some cases are less satisfying than others. This one was just messy and now Lisbon is upset. I'll have to find a way to cheer her up and take her mind off things._

Jane suggested that the team go out for a closed case drink for a change of pace. The others were amenable, so they soon found themselves down the street at one of the local bars, seated at a small table and drinking beer straight from the bottle. Jane kept the conversation going by making witty comments about the other people in the bar.

"You know, Rigsby," he said after a while, "that cute little blonde over by the bar has been making eyes at you since we came in. Why don't you ask her to dance?"

Lisbon frowned at Jane, but Rigsby looked over at the bar and caught the girl's eye. She was very attractive and definitely interested, so he decided 'why not?'.

"Excuse me," he said, getting up. Van Pelt stared at her beer with a fixed expression.

"Why so glum, Van Pelt? You can have pretty much any man in the room, but if I may make a suggestion, that dark-haired guy over there is probably your best bet."

Van Pelt couldn't help herself. She glanced at the man in question and he immediately smiled at her. She gave him a small smile in return, which he took as his cue to come over and offer to buy her a drink. Van Pelt felt a bit embarrassed about being picked up in a bar in front of her boss, but Rigsby was already slow-dancing with the blonde, and Van Pelt felt she had to do something to show that he wasn't the only one who could move on.

"What the hell, Jane?" Lisbon said irritably after Van Pelt had gone. "Why do enjoy messing with those two so much? How would you like it if someone kept interfering with your love-life?"

"Well, it would depend entirely on who was doing the interfering and how they were going about it," Jane said, grinning at her cheekily. Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him.

Cho wisely decided that he'd had about as much fun as he could stand for one night. Lisbon and Jane looked as though they were about to embark on one their long involved arguments, so if he was going to escape, now was the time to do it.

He stood up hurriedly and said goodnight.

"Would you like to dance, Lisbon?" Jane asked, after Cho had gone.

"Not in front of Rigsby and Van Pelt," Lisbon said firmly.

Jane took that to mean, 'yes, later'. He sat back to watch the Rigsby/Van Pelt drama unfold. Van Pelt was the first to decide that she really wasn't interested in the man who was trying his hardest to entertain her. She politely excused herself, and then came over to tell Lisbon and Jane that she was heading home. When Rigsby saw Van Pelt leaving, his interest in his dance partner waned considerably. Shortly thereafter, he too came to say goodnight to Lisbon and Jane.

"Well, I guess it's safe to say that they're not even remotely over each other," Jane said.

"Of course they're not. They only broke up a couple of weeks ago. Love doesn't just evaporate into thin air!"

Jane looked at Lisbon, interested.

"Well, I'm very happy to hear that," he said. "Shall we dance now?"

"Were you just trying to get rid of them?" Lisbon asked. "Because it would have been much simpler not to invite them along in the first place."

Jane just grinned and pulled her to her feet.

The music wasn't especially inspiring, but Jane and Lisbon didn't need inspiration. Dancing was an excuse to be close to each other, and that was really all they were interested in right then. Jane loved the way Lisbon always seemed to melt into him every time he got her in his arms. It not only brought out all his protective instincts, but also ignited a little fizz of excitement in his blood. He breathed in the heady scent of her and became blissfully unaware of his surroundings. Nothing existed except Lisbon and himself.

Until a voice burst their happy little bubble.

"May I cut in?"

Lisbon sprang away from Jane and looked at Hightower with an expression of confused horror. Jane didn't let go of Lisbon's hand.

"Best not," he said. "We wouldn't want it to be misconstrued as being inappropriate."

"Is there something you two want to tell me?" Hightower said, looking at them with her brows raised.

"Nothing springs to mind," Jane said. A new song started to play. "Oh, I like this one," he said cheerfully, pulling Lisbon towards him again. "If you'll excuse us, Agent Hightower?"

He swept Lisbon away, using his most expert dance moves. Hightower gave a wry smile and walked away.

"Jane, we need to leave!" Lisbon said urgently, trying to tug him off the dance-floor.

"Relax, Lisbon. We weren't doing anything we haven't done before when we were just colleagues. There's nothing untoward about us dancing together."

Jane was a good dancer and he now set about impressing Lisbon with his skills – skills that had been sorely underused in the slow-dance. Lisbon started having fun, Hightower notwithstanding. Jane actually managed to get her to laugh and to start to really enjoy herself.

"I think we should make it a regular thing to go out dancing," Jane said, smiling at her. "At least once a month. I know some good places that have decent dance floors and great music. What do you say?"

"Anywhere that's Hightower-free suits me," Lisbon said.

"She's gone, by the way," Jane said. "She left a few minutes ago."

"She knows we're dating."

"Yes, but she also knows it's not against the rules. And unless we actually admit it, she can't even get on our case about the inadvisability of it. Besides, she only has herself to blame. We might not have made the leap if she hadn't shown up and started messing with our relationship."

"How do you know that it's not against the rules?" Lisbon asked, intrigued. She hadn't mentioned to Jane her own research on the matter.

"Because when the whole Rigsby and Van Pelt saga started I wanted to know whether that particular rule applied to me, so I checked it out. Even if I hadn't though, your willingness to 'fraternize' or whatever it's called would have tipped me off that you knew it wasn't against the rules. And I have to say that in my opinion 'fraternize' is completely the wrong word for it. What I feel for you couldn't be less fraternal if it tried."

Lisbon grinned at Jane.

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, amused. "So you really don't think we need to worry? I had actually thought it might be best to just be up front about our relationship. As you say, it's not against the rules."

"Bad idea, Lisbon. I think we should just keep this to ourselves for now and see how things play out. Van Pelt and Rigsby's big mistake was admitting their relationship. If they hadn't, no-one could have really done anything about it, could they? Besides, do you really want the team to know at this point?"

That was a good point. Lisbon was not at all enthusiastic about the team knowing – particularly in light of what had happened with Rigsby and Van Pelt. Besides, she'd always been so adamant about not talking about personal things at work, and this was definitely personal. She and Jane were good at keeping secrets – it was one of the things they had in common.

"Okay, our private life stays private," she agreed.

Jane pulled her back into his arms and they began to slow-dance again.

00000

Lisbon looked up apprehensively as Jane came into her office.

"What did Hightower want?" she asked.

"Stiles came in to extract an apology from me," Jane said.

"A quest in which he was no doubt disappointed," Lisbon said wryly.

"Hightower happens to know a bit of dirt on the senator Stiles was using as leverage."

"Ouch."

"Yep. She's a politician all the way, that one."

"So she didn't say anything about us?"

"Nope. She did say that if someone with more clout comes in, she'll expect me to dance for them."

"She used those exact words?"

"Uh-huh. So I told her I love to dance, and did a couple of moves for her."

"Jane! You didn't!" Lisbon looked at him, slightly horrified, and then a big grin broke over her face as the image assaulted her brain.

Jane grinned back.

_Lisbon's Work Journal: Week 8,Thursday_

_We finished working up our case today – two cases, actually, since the murder and the bomb were completely unconnected crimes. I'm feeling a little exhausted actually. Believing you're about to die is quite a draining experience. I want to just curl up somewhere and go to sleep, but I'd probably just end up lying awake like I've been doing the last couple of nights, with my brain refusing to shut down. It always takes me a while to come down from that intense place of heightened awareness that near-death experiences induce. _

_I feel like such a lot is happening in my life right now, and it's a little unnerving. I don't seem to have a handle on anything at the moment – everything is in flux; changing on me. In some ways it's exciting, but in others it's scary and confusing. And all of it is tiring. There's a lot to be said for a monotonous life..._

_Jane's Work Journal: Week 8,Thursday_

_I find sparring with Hightower most invigorating. Except when she suspended Lisbon – that definitely wasn't part of the plan! Other than that, though, it's a lot of fun. She's very much like me. She manipulates people for her own ends, and likes to be a puppet-master, making everyone dance to her tune. She and I dance around each other, neither able to quite get the upper hand. I think she finds it as entertaining as I do._

_Lisbon is quite the opposite. She could never be a politician – firstly because she's not a good enough liar, and secondly because she's not a manipulator. What you see is what you get, despite her intense need for privacy. She doesn't try to trick you into doing what she wants, she just tells you straight out. She's my living proof that intelligence and the ability to manipulate others are two quite distinct things. Lisbon is very smart, but completely honest. Growing up I was led to believe that those two traits were mutually exclusive, so it's quite a revelation to find out how wrong I was. Being straightforward and truthful don't make you a sucker or a fool; you can be honest and cynical; trustworthy and untrusting; by-the-book and unconventional; obedient and rebellious; calm and wild. And while women are intrinsically more complicated and mysterious than men, some women take it to a whole different level. The conundrum that Lisbon presents is quite irresistible to someone like me. I have to figure her out._

_Van Pelt and Rigsby are considerably less mysterious. Their break-up, while perfectly civil and well-conducted on the surface, is, I fear, a ticking time-bomb. Lisbon takes a 'head in the sand' approach to messy human relationships. She figures that what she can't see (or doesn't acknowledge seeing, anyway), can't bother her. I am the opposite. I feel an almost overwhelming need to interfere. The only thing slowing me down is Lisbon's deep disapproval, but I'm afraid it's not slowing me down much. I'm keeping a close eye on developments, as I'm sure my expertise in such matters will become necessary sooner or later._

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On Friday afternoon, Lisbon was flipping through her day planner when Jane's handwriting suddenly caught her eye. For the following day he had written in large letters: 'Spend the day making out with Jane.' Lisbon blushed involuntarily and hurriedly tore the page out of the book.

"Hiding the evidence?" Jane's voice came from her doorway. "Eating it would be the safest."

Lisbon glared at him.

"This is my work calendar, Jane. What's the matter with you?"

"Ah, to answer that would take up a great deal of your valuable time, Lisbon. I'd suggest we make time for it and put it in our diaries, but I'm sensing some hostility on that score."

Lisbon gave him an exasperated look.

"We have baseball practise tomorrow, remember? We're starting early to make up for last week."

Jane drooped slightly. Lisbon relented.

"But you could drop by on Sunday, if you wanted to," she added.

Jane immediately perked up.

"Excellent. Would you like me to put that into your planner for you Lisbon?"

"If you ever write anything into my planner again, Jane, you'd better start sleeping with one eye open."

"So touchy, my dear," he said, grinning at her. "I'll put it in my diary instead."

"You don't even have a diary! Please go and bother someone else for a while. I have things to do. Oh, and remind the others about tomorrow, will you?"

Only after Jane had given her one last cheeky grin and left her in peace, did Lisbon realise that she still had the crumpled page from her day planner clutched in her hand. She shook her head slightly and gave a tiny grin.

One thing she couldn't fault Patrick Jane for was not paying attention. He might have an inbuilt inability to follow instructions, but he also never forgot a single word she said. And Lisbon had lived long enough to know that that was a trait that was worth its weight in gold.

TBC

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_So I hope you noticed my little dig at Simon's characterisation of Jane & Lisbon's relationship as being sibling-like!_


	9. The Home Run

_Thank you for your kind reviews and I apologise for the long delay in updating. Between the various comments made by Bruno Heller and Simon Baker and the totally uninspiring last three episodes of the season, I totally fell out of love with this show. However, I can't quite give up on Jane and Lisbon until I've at least finished this story, so here is the next chapter. It includes some baseball, since Lisbon has all that baseball paraphernalia in her home and office and I couldn't resist exploring that. Please excuse any errors – my knowledge of baseball is gleaned entirely from a quick cram-session on the internet._

_Warning: this chapter is fluffy. And I am rusty and have rather lost my mojo, but since I promised people I'd finish this, all I can do is apologise in advance if it fails expectations. Oh, and needless to say, my story has parted ways with the show. I'm doing an admirable job of forgetting that the last few episodes of the season even happened._

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**The Home Run**

Saturday morning dawned clear and sunny and Lisbon was in a good mood when she arrived at the baseball field. Cho was already there, looking very cheerful at the prospect of a day spent playing a game he loved. Jane arrived shortly after Lisbon did, and, rather to her surprise, had followed her suggestion to forego his suit for the occasion. Although (to her regret) he wasn't wearing jeans, she liked the casual (but not exactly sporty) look he'd opted for. He clearly had no intention of playing. Lisbon smiled to herself. She had news for him.

Cho and Lisbon made use of the time before the others arrived to warm up. Since Lisbon was going to be catcher, she got Cho to show her his different pitches and together they devised a system of signals that they could use during the game. Jane's only contribution was to pluck a catcher's mask out of the equipment she'd brought and hand it to her.

"Put this on," he instructed. "We don't want anything to happen to that pretty face of yours, do we?"

The rest of the team arrived not long thereafter. Aside from the SCU, five other players had been recruited from among the agents who worked in the immediate vicinity of Lisbon's team. They knew each other well and all had good reasons to want to make mincemeat of the guys from Organised Crime, who everybody agreed were an obnoxious bunch.

Lisbon quickly assumed control, sending everyone to the fielding positions for which they had expressed a preference. She told Van Pelt that she would be batting first, which left one of the fielding positions empty. Lisbon glanced around.

"Jane," she said beckoning to the man who was loitering on the side-lines and trying to work out the best spot from which to subtly check Lisbon out. "We need you."

Jane gave Lisbon a wary look.

"For?" he asked.

"Since some of us are going to be batting, we're going to be short of fielders and we'll need you to fill in in the outfield."

Jane looked a little aghast and backed away.

"Lisbon, you know I don't play. I would be completely useless."

Lisbon just pointed to the outfield.

"Just go and stand out there and if a ball comes your way, all you need to do is fetch it and chuck it back to Cho or me. No-one's expecting you to do anything complicated."

"I can't throw a ball that far," Jane said, looking at her like she was nuts. "And I'd much prefer not to acquire a reputation for throwing like a girl."

Lisbon gave him her best levelling glare. "If anyone dared to make disparaging remarks about how girls throw, they'd soon regret it. But you can just throw the ball to an infielder and they'll throw it back to Cho."

Jane and Lisbon had a brief staring contest, which ended when Lisbon leaned closer to him and said very softly, "I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

Without hesitating, Jane set off to his designated spot in the outfield. Van Pelt looked at Lisbon interestedly.

"What did you say to him?" she asked curiously.

"Threatened to confiscate his couch," Lisbon said.

Van Pelt wasn't convinced. Jane had had the look of one who had been shown a sudden glimpse of Nirvana, and Van Pelt was certain Lisbon had employed the carrot method of persuasion rather than the stick method. But she couldn't think what she might have said to him to make him look like that. She shrugged and turned her attention to Cho.

"Okay," Lisbon said, crouching down behind Van Pelt, "let's see what you've got."

One by one all seven fielders took turns batting, and Lisbon felt quite optimistic by the end. All her players were reasonable enough batters, and a couple of them were better than she'd hoped. Rigsby, for instance, didn't have a lot of finesse, but he had good hand-eye coordination and was a very powerful hitter. And Cho was clearly a top-notch pitcher.

"Your turn, boss," Cho said, when everyone else had had a turn. Ron offered to catch while Lisbon batted.

Lisbon picked up the bat and grinned challengingly at Cho. From her expression, Cho realised he had better pull out all the stops. Lisbon looked like she intended to hit the ball to Timbuktu, and Cho suddenly had the feeling that she had the skill to do it too.

Cho relaxed slightly when Lisbon left his first two pitches alone, but on the third one, Lisbon made her move. With perfect timing and easy grace, she hit the ball with a solid woody clunk, and it sailed away for an unambiguous home run. The whole team watched in stunned silence.

"Wow," said Cho, genuinely impressed. "How come you never told us you could hit like that?"

Lisbon shrugged. "It never came up," she said.

Jane, having retrieved the ball, trotted back to Lisbon with it.

"You're a bit of a dark horse, aren't you?" he said, proudly. "Hiding your light under a bushel."

Lisbon just gave him a crooked half-grin and called the practice back to order. They figured out their batting order, decided where everyone should field and gave their relief pitcher a chance to practise. Cho took a turn at batting and proved to be pretty decent at that too.

"We're going to crush those guys," he said, with a small grin.

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed, "we've got a surprisingly good team. We should come up with a name for it, since Jane is going to be our cheerleader. He'll need a name for his chants."

Rigsby got a huge grin on his face.

"Jane is going to be our cheerleader? Awesome."

Everyone turned to grin at Jane and he glared at Lisbon.

"That's not exactly what I said," he began, but Lisbon interrupted him with a suggestion that they have some lunch and then continue with their practice. She shot Jane a mischievous grin as the others moved away.

"Actually," she said, "that is exactly what you said. It's the whole reason I agreed to do this, and I'm going to hold you to it."

Jane came and stood very close to her and put one hand unobtrusively on her hip.

"Slave-driver," he said softly into her ear.

At his proximity her heart gave an erratic jump and then sped up. She moved hurriedly away from him before anyone noticed. He grinned.

"I'm thoroughly worn out from all that running around in the outfield," he said in a plaintive voice, unwilling to concede the argument. "Surely that's enough of a sacrifice to satisfy you?"

"Nope," she said, unmoved. "Besides, you love the limelight, Jane. I'm just giving you an opportunity to explore new ways to experience it."

The rest of practice went well, despite Jane's increasingly desperate complaints about his exhaustion, muscular discomfort and dire need to lie down quietly somewhere (all of which Lisbon ignored). The team was getting to know each other's strengths and weaknesses and starting to work really well together. Lisbon was clearly accustomed to running a baseball team, but she declined to say anything about her background in the sport other than that she'd 'played a bit'.

After Lisbon had dismissed everyone at the end of the day, she and Jane lingered on the field.

"So, you were a jock in high school, were you?" Jane said. "Is that what all the trophies in your house are for?"

Lisbon gave a non-committal shrug and said, "My dad loved baseball and he loved that we loved baseball. It was his special thing that he always did with us kids from the time we were little and in the end it was the only thing he still made an effort about. He was proud of the way we played and always supported us. It was the one thing that made the world still feel normal."

Jane slipped both his arms around her and held her against him for a moment. Then he kissed the top of her head and said, "So, how early can I come over tomorrow? Busy day – lots to do."

Lisbon leaned back and grinned at him.

"I was under the impression that we only had one thing to do," she said.

"Yes, but lots of that one thing. And you know how we tend to get interrupted, so it's best to get a head start, just in case."

"So to speak."

Jane laughed. "Such a literal mind, Lisbon. So, 9am then? I will spend the intervening hours nursing my aching body back to health, so as to be in peak condition for our marathon."

He leaned down and gave her a kiss.

"Till tomorrow, then," he said.

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 8, Saturday_

_It's been a long time since I played baseball. It brought back a lot of memories from my childhood, both good and bad. The trouble with the bad memories is that they make all the good ones bittersweet, which seems very unfair. I still can't help loving the game, though. It dominated the first half of my life, but I have sometimes wondered how much of my passion for the game was my own, and how much was a desire to please my father. Eventually, of course, baseball became so bound up in everything that was wrong with my life that I had to intentionally distance myself from it and everything it meant to me. But I've missed playing. And I've still got the touch. I've always had it, ever since I was a little kid. Perhaps my love of the game is that simple – I'm good at it, and people like doing things they're good at, don't they? But today when I hit that home run, I had to resist the urge to look around for my Dad and the boys. I think baseball and my family will always be synonymous for me. Bittersweet._

00000

Jane went home that evening and spent a long time soaking in the bath and thinking about the next day. The ring on his finger, which he never took off, had been troubling him recently. For weeks now, he'd been suddenly and acutely aware of it and it was making him intensely uncomfortable. He had the strange sense that it was an accusation, burning into him and forcing him to re-evaluate his life and priorities.

He knew he had to catch Red John, as much for his future with Lisbon as for his past and the family he'd already lost. But he'd already realised that he was starting to spend far more of his time and energy concentrating on Lisbon and his relationship with her than on his revenge quest. In fact, he was finding it quite difficult to think of anything other than Lisbon these days. Red John was still always at the back of his mind, though, ready to take precedence the moment he re-emerged, and Jane was afraid that when that happened, the damage it would do to his relationship would be crippling. He was the first to admit that Red John made him behave a little crazily.

He couldn't give up his quest for revenge, but he could change his self-imposed rules as to how he was going to go about it. He knew that Lisbon wanted to catch Red John just as much as he did and that it was now personal for her too. They weren't playing for different teams, so it seemed crazy that this should come between them. Jane just had to be smart about it so that everyone got what they wanted. Lisbon needed the law to be followed and Jane needed the crazy serial killer to die – how hard could it be to come up with a scenario where they both achieved their goals? It was unlikely that Red John would go down without a fight, so it seemed almost inevitable that he would die in a final showdown, without it being anyone's fault but his own. At the end of the day, Jane knew that he wasn't prepared to sacrifice Lisbon for Red John. And since he was living for more than just revenge now, he wasn't even prepared to sacrifice his relationship with her for his revenge.

Making a sudden decision, he slid his ring off his finger and put it on the side of the bath. He had finally realised that it would be the ultimate foolishness to allow Red John to steal his present love and his future life from him too. His best way of defeating Red John would be to get rid of him without losing any more of himself in the process. Lisbon had been right all along and now that he had a reason to want to live again, he planned to get what he wanted without having to give anything up to do it. Jane turned the hot tap on again and leaned back thoughtfully to plan out his new strategy.

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 8, Saturday_

_I've told Lisbon I love her. Now it's time I show her. Actions speak louder than words._

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Jane arrived at Lisbon's door at precisely 9am, bearing baked goods and wearing jeans. He was a trifle nervous, though he would never have admitted it. It seemed to take Lisbon forever to open the door, and when she eventually did, Jane was greeted by a sight for which he was entirely unprepared. Lisbon, who had still been in the shower when he had arrived, had thrown on the first things she could find before running down to let him in. Dispensing with underwear, she had pulled on tracksuit pants and a T-shirt that was sticking to her still partly wet body and she was holding a towel to her hair to prevent it from dripping all over the place.

"Sorry," she said, breathlessly, "I overslept. I need to get dressed properly, so help yourself to tea in the meantime."

Jane's plan to walk in and kiss her the moment she opened the door had fallen by the wayside the moment his brain had latched onto the distracting knowledge that Lisbon had been completely wet and naked only a couple of minutes earlier. He blinked at her for a second.

"No need to change on my account," he said, his voice sounding distinctly husky.

Lisbon was already retreating up the stairs as he spoke, but she shot an amused look over her shoulder at him and said, "Love the sexy morning voice, Jane."

Jane wanted to make a witty comeback, but had lost faith in the trustworthiness of his vocal chords, and so refrained. He went to the kitchen to make himself a consoling cup of tea and get his brain back into working order.

Lisbon raced back into her bedroom, closed the door firmly and leaned against it to wait for her heart-rate to slow down. She made no pretence of being a mind-reader, but when Jane's eyes had glazed over for a moment when he first saw her, she'd known exactly what he'd been thinking, and it had shot her heart-rate right up. Then she'd glanced down at his hand to see what he was carrying and had instead noticed that he wasn't wearing his wedding ring, which had stopped her heart entirely for a moment. All in all, it had been an exhausting couple of minutes and she needed to take a moment to calm down.

Once the blood had stopped pounding in her ears, Lisbon undressed, dried herself properly and put on a pair of cargo pants and her favourite black top. She then spent a frustrating ten minutes untangling and blow-drying her hair, a task she always hated. She didn't bother with make-up because she was in a hurry to get back downstairs before Jane had time to poke around and unearth all her secrets. Luckily her journals were safely in the bedroom with her.

When she got back downstairs, though, she found that Jane had been using the time far more productively to produce a rather delicious looking breakfast. He'd made eggs and bacon to go with the bagels and croissants he'd brought, and he'd even made her coffee.

She gave him a big smile when she saw the meal all laid out on the table, waiting for her.

"Sorry about that," she said, going over to him. "I don't normally sleep so late."

She reached up and gave him a little kiss, which he promptly turned into a much longer, slower kiss.

"That's okay," he said. "You can come downstairs dressed like that anytime. You definitely won't hear me complaining."

Lisbon rolled her eyes at him and sat down at the table. She looked appreciatively at the food.

"Me neither. This cooking thing you've got going on is definitely working for me."

"Well, you know what they say: the way to a girl's heart is through her stomach," Jane said, with a grin.

After breakfast, Jane and Lisbon made their way to the living room and sat side-by-side on the couch. They were both suppressing the growing urge to start laughing, because they felt a little ridiculous and unsure of themselves. The moment their eyes met and they realised that they both felt equally silly, they grinned at each other and started to relax.

"So, what now?" Lisbon asked, her face full of the mischief and mirth that Jane loved best about her. And at long last, he didn't have to stop himself from leaning forward and kissing her.

Jane and Lisbon managed to keep their make-out session in the kissing and necking realms for exactly 36 minutes before one of Jane's hands strayed under Lisbon's top and headed for forbidden territory. Lisbon tilted her head back and looked at Jane quizzically.

"I thought we were supposed to be doing nothing but kissing all day?" she said, slightly mockingly.

"I possibly didn't think this plan through as carefully as I might have done," Jane admitted. He didn't mention that he'd thought it through sufficiently well to have brought condoms with him just in case.

Lisbon sat up. From the moment she'd noticed that Jane had taken off his ring, she'd known that they would be making love that day.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" she said cautiously.

Jane was on his feet in a second. He held his hand out to her.

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 9, Sunday_

_Well, he lived up to expectations..._

_He's lying next to me on the bed, fast asleep (even though it's only 3 in the afternoon). I think I wore him out (not that he needed much encouragement)._

_And I take back every single negative thought I've ever had about him being too invasively observant. When he's using all that semi-clairvoyance to figure out what makes me happy, it's a rather mind-bending experience. He mapped my entire body with his lips and hands until he'd figured out every single thing I liked (some of which I was also discovering for the first time) and then proceeded to put his newly acquired knowledge to good use. He doesn't treat foreplay as though it's something he's doing it just to pay his dues so that he can get to the good stuff. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it more than I did – he acted as though gaining access to my body was the equivalent of finding an oasis in the desert when you're dying of thirst. I guess it has been a while. For both of us._

Jane stirred slightly and reached out his hand, evidently seeking Lisbon. She abandoned her journaling and slid down in the bed beside him. Jane immediately pulled her close to him and then sank back into a deep dreamless sleep. Lisbon lay watching him for a while before finally drifting off to sleep herself.

When she awoke a few hours later, it was starting to get dark. Jane was still sleeping, but had somehow managed to retain his grip on Lisbon. She didn't want to wake him, but the need to use the bathroom was pre-empting other considerations. When she slid as carefully as she could out of his grasp, he mumbled incoherently in protest and tried to pull her back.

"Shh, sleep," she said to him softly. "I'm just going to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

He still seemed to be mostly asleep when she left the room, but when she returned he was wide-awake and waiting for her. Her instinctive self-consciousness about her nakedness melted in the warmth of the wonderful genuine smile he gave her and she slid back into the bed with him feeling beautiful and desirable.

"Sorry I woke you up," she said.

"I can't believe you let me waste so much time sleeping when there were better things to do," he said, leaning in to kiss her neck.

"Um, before we get distracted again, I have a question," Lisbon said.

"You want to know about my ring," Jane said.

Lisbon gave him her 'Smart-ass!' look, but nodded.

"I took it off so that you would know that there isn't anything in my life that is more important to me than you," Jane said.

Lisbon had no idea how to respond to that, but she knew she didn't need to say anything. Jane kissed her softly on the lips.

"You and me are partners in every way. We both want to get Red John; we just need to do it in a way that makes us both happy. But now isn't the time to be talking about that, so can we postpone this conversation 'til later?"

Lisbon nodded again, and gave herself up to Jane's caresses. She was definitely in favour of his new set of priorities.

0000000

Lisbon's alarm dragged her reluctantly back to the real world early the next morning, and she cursed it resentfully for its efforts. Jane lazily half-opened one eye, but was otherwise unresponsive to the demands of the new week. Lisbon gave him a quick kiss, then took herself off to shower. By the time she got back to her bedroom Jane was gone, but given the fact that most of his clothes were still on the bedroom floor she assumed he hadn't gone very far. When she had finished dressing and getting ready for work, she went downstairs and found Jane sitting sipping a cup of tea at the dining-room table wearing nothing but his boxers. Her coffee and breakfast were waiting on the table for her.

Jane smiled at her, but was secretly a little sorry that passionate, spontaneous, adventurous weekend Lisbon had been so easily locked back away and replaced by hardworking, careful, cautious weekday Lisbon. Not that he didn't love that incarnation of her too – that was the only one he'd known up until recently, after all – but he did wish that she wouldn't douse her sparkle quite so determinedly when she went to work. Jane blamed the male-dominated work environment – it forced women to hide some of their more appealing characteristics and accentuate some of their least appealing ones in order to succeed. Sometimes Jane thought the members of his own sex were almost astonishingly stupid.

"In work mode, I see," he said to Lisbon. "I guess our weekend of scoring home runs is officially over."

Caught off-guard, Lisbon didn't know whether to laugh or hit him. In the end she just sat down and poured herself some coffee.

"I'm sensing some ground rules coming on," Jane said, eyeing her.

Lisbon shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"No ground rules. We've both already said we want to keep our relationship private. What more is there to say."

"Other people will still know," Jane pointed out. "They'll notice I'm not wearing my ring, for starters, and Hightower's gimlet eye will no doubt pick up every nuance of our body language as well. I suppose the question is, do we lie if we're asked a direct question? Because you're a terrible liar."

"We tell them to mind their own business. Neither confirm nor deny. We don't discuss our private lives at work."

A disturbing thought occurred to Jane.

"We're keeping our work-lives and our home-lives 100% separate, right?" he said. "If I annoy you at work, you're not going to take it out on me at home, are you?"

"With the best will in the world, women are unable to compartmentalise their lives the way men seem to be able to." Lisbon grinned at Jane over the edge of her coffee cup. "This may never have occurred to you before, but try this fascinating new idea on for size: it would probably be in your best interests not to irritate me in either part of our lives."

"On the other hand, I hear that make-up sex is well worth the hassle." Jane wasn't about to give in that easily.

Lisbon just smiled at him. Jane's heart constricted painfully. He had a feeling that out of the two of them, he was going to be the one who was going to give them away. He wasn't half as good at compartmentalising as she made out.

Lisbon drove to work feeling uncomplicatedly happy. She was world-weary enough to know that even people who led the most tragedy-free lives only felt this happy in brief, unexpected spurts. It was an experience you could neither manufacture to demand nor prolong past its sell-by date. When it came along, the smart thing to do was to just enjoy it whole-heartedly, and not worry about all the tomorrows that would add the bitterness into today's sweetness.

When Jane arrived at work a little later, having gone home to shower and change, it quickly became clear to Lisbon that everyone was going to figure out their secret in no time. If she looked as unprecedentedly happy as Jane was looking, their relationship was going to be very obvious to everyone. Not that she begrudged Jane the spring in his step and the complete genuineness of his smile - on the contrary it made her even happier knowing that she was the cause of his new-found glow - but subtle it was not.

It was pure luck that they got a new case first thing that morning. It distracted everyone and shook Jane and Lisbon back into their familiar work groove. Still, even a dead body didn't put a damper on their happiness and although they argued good-naturedly in the car all the way to and from the crime scene, it only just barely masked the much stronger feelings that lay beneath their banter. Fortunately for them, the team was still in baseball mode, and any discussions that didn't centre around the case veered off immediately into discussions of the game. To Jane and Lisbon, the baseball practice seemed to have taken place aeons ago, but they gamely kept up their end of the conversation so as not draw attention themselves.

_Lisbon's Work Journal: Week 9, Monday_

_It's a beautiful day today. We got a new case, which always seems to cheer everybody up (as macabre as that sounds). The tensions within the team have been considerably lessened since we all had baseball practice together this weekend. It seems to have had a positive effect on everybody, just as Jane predicted it would. It's given them something neutral to talk about and bond over; particularly since it has provided ample opportunities to tease Jane – firstly about his deplorable lack of ball skills and secondly about the fact that he's going to be our cheerleader for the big game. Sports always seems to bring out people's worst instincts, but since Jane deserves what he gets (because let's be honest, he gets positive pleasure out of torturing the rest of us any chance he gets), I'm actually rather enjoying watching him get his just desserts. Which doesn't say anything good about my character, I suppose. Jane has an uncanny ability to draw the worst out of others! But to give credit where credit is due, he's taking all the ribbing with very good grace. I'm starting to think that he's actually going to go through with the whole cheerleading thing. (Note to self: Check that my video camera is in working order. We're not going to want to miss getting this on film!)_

_Jane's Work Journal: Week 9, Monday_

_It's been an entertaining day. Everyone is in an excellent mood – partly because we have an interesting case, which always lifts the spirits, and partly because the team has all been talking sports enthusiastically and obsessively all day. Baseball fever has struck. I'm all in favour of it, by the way – I enjoy watching a good game as much as the next guy – but I prefer to keep my activities strictly theoretical. Lisbon coerced me into playing some actual baseball on the weekend and my body wasn't a fan. As anyone will agree, I have numerous impressive skills, but throwing baseballs is really not my area of expertise. Turns out it's Lisbon's, though. With a vengeance. I may not be able to play myself, but I can recognise talent when I see it, and she has it. If she'd been a boy, I bet she would have played professionally. I wonder if part of the reason she became a cop was out of protest that her sporting talent had less value because it belonged to a girl instead of a boy. Maybe she chose an aggressive male profession to show that she can beat the boys at their own game. Poor Lisbon, condemned to live her whole life in a male-dominated world. She has no idea how beautiful she is nor how competing with mere men is actually a step down for her. I wish I could get her to see herself the way I see her._

Lisbon watched Jane as he wrote in his journal, intrigued by the expression of fierce concentration on his face.

"Have you told her about us?" she said, suddenly wondering whether she was making a fool of herself by not telling Dr Williams about their relationship when she already knew about it from Jane.

"No, I thought we weren't telling," Jane said, looking up.

"A therapist is a little different, though. It's not like she can tell anyone," Lisbon said. "It's tricky writing a journal about your feelings when you're keeping all your most overwhelming feelings secret."

"I bet you're managing just fine," Jane said, grinning. "You have a lifetime of experience in that regard." He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and then said, more as a statement than a question, "You want to tell her, don't you?"

"I don't know," said Lisbon. "Part of me does. Can we just agree that we'll do it at the same time, so that we don't make idiots of ourselves by giving her conflicting stories."

"You're the boss," Jane said, sending her a rather sweet smile. "I don't really mind telling her, since I'm sure she's going to work it out pretty quickly by herself anyway. Let me know when you're ready to tell her and we'll do it together."

Lisbon nodded, the strange unfamiliar feeling of happiness that had been with her all day welling up again with renewed force.

"It's getting late," she said. "Wanna get out of here?"

The way Jane's face lit up spoke for itself.

TBC

* * *

_Yeah, I know. Like I said: fluffy. But hey, they're in love. Just let them have a few days of bliss, okay? The plot will thicken shortly._


	10. The Past, The Present and The Future

_Thank you for your lovely reviews and for still reading this story after all this time! Here is yet another wave of fluff and introspection – clearly I should stick to friendship fics, as things get out of hand when I venture into romance! Also, the chapter grew to a truly epic length, so I've moved some of it to the next chapter. It's still really long, though._

_This chapter has spoilers for the book _Rebecca_, by Daphne du Maurier. Thank you to SpaceAnJL for first thinking of this book in the context of Jane and Lisbon and saying I could use the idea. The fic I started writing back then ended up too dark for me (can you tell that angst isn't my thing?), so I abandoned it. I use it now in a more manageable, less depressing way._

* * *

**The Past, The Present and The Future**

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 9, Friday_

_It's been a week of new experiences. The first was Jane setting a record low on my Jane Chaos spreadsheet. (I wonder, incidentally, if he knows that I've developed a sophisticated analytical method for keeping a record of all the crap he pulls? I have a bad habit of assuming he is all-knowing, but he's really fairly clueless about computers and has an allergic reaction to anything that resembles a bureaucratic form, which is why I always use that as my disguise for anything I want to keep private from him. So, to answer my own question, probably not. He's not really a spreadsheet kind of a guy.) The lack of fall-out was partly due to the fact that he hasn't left my side all week, which forced him to abandon his much hated (by me) habit of doing aggravating things behind my back. He can't get away with as much when I'm there. _

_The second thing was that even on the occasions when he simply wasn't able to curb his tongue and proceeded to needle/antagonise/insult some unfortunate suspect/witness/cop/innocent bystander who happened to be in his line of fire, the moment he caught my eye he would suddenly look all remorseful. Once he even spontaneously apologised to his victim! This is a truly astonishing development. He's occasionally been remorseful in the past, but usually only when he's done something that has specifically harmed me. This is an unprecedented new level of sensitivity to his own bad behaviour and I've had to adjust my chart accordingly (it actually rather messed up my system, but that isn't something I ought to be complaining about!). I'm working on the assumption that this new-found conscience of his is directly related to his concern that making me mad at work will have a detrimental effect on his love-life. Ah well, whatever works, I suppose._

_Which brings me to the real reason I'm writing today. I have to make a confession and this is the only outlet I have. Here goes... Okay, for the record, the first time I really was completely innocent. He told me to pull over and he made it sound so urgent that I thought that the engine had caught fire or he'd spotted a dead body on the side of the road or something. I pulled over in good faith, I really did. Of course, he is Jane and it is in my nature to be suspicious of him, so perhaps I had a tiny inkling that he wasn't entirely on the up-and-up, but when someone yells "Pull over!", one just does it by reflex. Needless to say, it turned out that the only thing that was burning was Patrick Jane's desire to kiss me in the middle of the working day on our way back from a crime scene. In retrospect I should have anticipated it, what with all the discussions about making out in the car and Jane being irrepressibly unprofessional and professedly a big fan of kissing. Be that as it may, he kissed me, and my attempt to stop him was so half-hearted that he naturally disregarded it entirely and... well, it's really not my fault! Kissing Jane is addictive and I should be allowed to be weak sometimes. The next time he told me to pull over, of course, I knew exactly why I was doing it and I did it anyway. Oh, how the mighty have fallen! _

_But it gets worse... Yesterday, I saw the perfect spot and pulled over without him even suggesting it. You should have seen his grin. He shouldn't be that happy about destroying my sense of professionalism and seducing me into behaving like a teenager. Besides, it's just a matter of time before someone catches us. The potential humiliation should be enough to make me stop, but so far it hasn't. Luckily my phone rings at least once every ten minutes, so we never stop for too long before we get interrupted. But it's quite clear that I'm in sad, sad shape. I should be much more upset about it, but I'm really kind of happy at the moment. I blame the sex. Or possibly the fact that I'm rather stupidly in love. Or both. It's a rather potent combination, especially when you're not used to it._

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 9, Friday_

_I'm not sure whether I've just forgotten what it feels like to be in love or whether I've never felt quite this way before, but I'm in well into unchartered territory. Not alone, though. Never alone. Wonderfully, miraculously not alone. Have I ever not been alone before? I can't seem to remember that either. I don't even know the word for 'not alone' – surely in a language so vast, there must be a word that is the positive of 'not alone'? Why don't I know what it is? Perhaps my life has only just started and that's why I have no memories. Perhaps I've just woken up for the first time, and that is why I'm blinking, dazed and confused in the new, bright world I suddenly find myself inhabiting. A world in which I'm not alone. I feel like Adam must have done in _Genesis_ when God created Eve to be his companion because (and I'm quoting) "it is not good for man to be alone"._

_I am not alone. She's here in my head and in my heart, but even better, she's by my side during the day and in my arms at night. She's so vibrantly alive, so melting passionate, so utterly mine. I can't remember how it happened exactly, but I'm not going to question my good fortune. I'm just going to drown myself in her and forget that I was ever alone._

Jane made dinner again, ushering Lisbon out of the kitchen when she tried to help.

"This kitchen is too small for both of us," he told her.

"I thought that was one of the things you liked about it?" she said, shooting him a saucy look.

He kissed her neck as he propelled her gently out of the room.

"It is, which is why you need to leave. You're distracting me and I don't want to burn the dinner."

This seemed fairly logical, and since logic had been a rather scarce resource in their lives over the past few heady days, Lisbon was vaguely impressed with Jane's lucidity. Drawing on a previously undiscovered creative flair, she busied herself with laying the table instead, and won a delighted smile from Jane when he emerged from the stark neon brilliance of the kitchen into her soft romantic candlelit paradise.

"Well now we know why clichés become clichés," he said. "The fact that millions of others have found candlelight romantic doesn't make it one jot less romantic for us. Let us go where every man has gone before."

She shoved him lightly, "Stop teasing me," she said, woefully unconvincingly.

"You love it when I tease you," he said softly, right in her ear.

She looked into his eyes and they both became very still, breathlessly lost in a moment of perfect communion. It took a conscious effort for Jane to remember that he'd come out of the kitchen to tell Lisbon that the food was ready.

It was in the middle of dinner that Lisbon suddenly asked the question that had been floating at the back of her mind all week, causing her a mild, undefined discomfort in the midst of her happiness.

"When I asked about your ring, you talked about Red John. That wasn't what I expected you to say."

Jane looked up, startled. He felt foolish that he hadn't realised that Lisbon would be worrying about his wife. He paused, trying to find the best way to answer her unspoken question. Lisbon waited patiently while he gathered his thoughts. When he finally spoke, he held her gaze and his expression was earnest.

"I loved my wife," he said softly, "as best I knew how at the time. You must understand, I was a different man then, Lisbon. You wouldn't have liked me, let alone loved me. I've spent seven years paying penance for the man I used to be. I doubt I'm a better man now, but I'm certainly a different man. That man, that Patrick Jane, was broken, smashed beyond repair, utterly annihilated. He died the day my family died. This Patrick Jane..." he broke off, not sure how to explain. "I'm able to feel things I couldn't feel before. All this time, though, I thought that the only things I could feel more deeply were the bad emotions - the pain and the anger and the hatred. I was wrong. I can feel everything more deeply, including all the good things that I never really understood before – love, passion, joy, peace. And you were the one who enabled me to discover that. My wife and daughter made me feel less lonely, they were a refuge and a home in an empty world. But you, Teresa, with you I don't feel alone at all. Suddenly I'm... what _is_ the word for not alone?"

"Accompanied?" Lisbon said, but that didn't sound quite right to her. Rather dubiously, she tried out some alternatives. "Together? United? Belonging?"

Jane suddenly smiled one of his most brilliant smiles.

"Yes, belonging. That's it. I belong to you, belong with you, we belong together. That's a wonderful word. So rich with meaning. When you belong, it's something that is immutably a part of you, something that can't be taken away. Being part of something is a benign form of possession; it gives you a fixed place in the world. Tethered. It's the opposite of alone."

Lisbon reached across the table and took his hand.

"Do you really belong to me?" she said, a little uncertainly.

"Body, mind and soul," he said with soft assurance.

She smiled at him.

"Well, in that case, I assume you're coming to baseball practice tomorrow?"

Jane blinked, a little thrown by Lisbon's sudden switch in mood from serious to mischievous. This wasn't the first time she'd caught him out like that, and he found it both disconcerting and rather irresistible. There were few things he found quite so attractive as being surprised by someone he thought he could read perfectly.

"Can't," he said, thinking he'd better draw some boundaries before she got in the habit of walking all over him. "Got to practice my cheerleading tomorrow."

"Are you scared I'm going to make you play again?" Her eyes were alight with amusement.

Jane shrugged his disarming 'you got me' shrug.

"I think my athletic prowess can be better used on other activities," he said, looking at her suggestively. "I prefer to conserve my energy and use it for things I'm good at and enjoy doing, rather than waste it making a fool of myself. I will, however, miss you desperately."

Lisbon thought he sounded as though he really meant that last part. Jane's mind, however, was now happily moving along its new train of thought.

"That reminds me..." he said, hopping up and going into the kitchen. He emerged with a bowl of whipped cream and a plateful of strawberries.

"I was thinking that dessert might be more profitably served upstairs?" he said with a grin.

Lisbon only hesitated for a moment, before leading the way up to her bedroom.

"No cream on my bed-linen, Jane," she said, trying to sound firm. "I mean it!"

"Don't worry, Lisbon," he said soothingly, "that really wasn't where I planned to put it..."

0000000

Jane woke suddenly in the middle of the night. The house was silent and Lisbon was fast asleep beside him. It was the first time since they had started sleeping together that Jane hadn't slept through the night. He supposed it was Lisbon's question about his wife that had shaken him out of his love-induced haze of happiness long enough to allow the past to make an unwelcome reappearance, creating its usual disturbance in his psyche and messing with his sleep patterns.

He lay looking at Lisbon and thinking back over his life. He'd been avoiding doing that all week; had intentionally spent every waking moment in Lisbon's company, so that she could drive out any possibility that anything else in the world existed besides her. Apart from when he went home to change his clothes and when he was driving to and from her place, he hadn't had to be alone with his thoughts at all since they'd tumbled headlong into their love affair. He was a little surprised that she hadn't objected and demanded a little time to herself – the fact that she hadn't proved that she was as dizzily in love as he was. He slid the bed-covers carefully down her body so that he could gaze at her. She looked so beautiful and so peaceful.

Jane's mouth curved into a little smile. Lisbon had been a revelation as a lover – at first she had let him take the lead, allowing him to familiarise himself with her body and set the pace, but as she gained confidence, he'd soon discovered that she was passionate and adventurous and quick to shed her inhibitions. She was an exciting, giving, fearless lover. Not that he should have expected anything less – he'd always known that Lisbon was fiery risk-taker under her controlled façade. It was the reason for her success in her risky profession and the reason why she had put up with working with him for so long. But to experience it in the bedroom was so much more astonishing than he'd thought it would be.

It wasn't as though he'd never fantasized about her before. From the first day they'd worked together, when she'd turned all that startling beauty and sarcastic fury onto him for some trifling indiscretion or other, she'd become the object of his more steamy daydreams. In fact, she was the first woman to inspire such feelings in him since the death of his family, the first one to make him realise that he was not, in fact, dead too. And although he'd started to notice other attractive women since then and had slowly emerged from his shell-shocked stupor, Lisbon was still the only one he fantasized about. She was too vivid and accessible a presence in his life for other women to compete with her – the moment he looked in her direction, the others always became shadowy and unimportant. But even his imagination had done Lisbon a disservice. None of his fantasies had prepared him for the reality, and he was glad they hadn't.

He tried hard to focus on Lisbon's creamy skin and have her hold him safely in the present, but his mind was dragging him backwards in time. He only resisted the urge to wake her up because he knew he should allow his mind to deal with whatever it was that was troubling it. It would do neither of them any good to have him fall apart because he'd refused to deal with his issues.

He thought back to his young, unmarried self, to the self-confident ladies' man he had once been. When a man could find lovers as easily as he could, that life-style was almost inevitable. He'd had no reason to say 'no', no stern upbringing that taught him about chastity and faithfulness, no internal austerity that preferred lofty ideals to warm bodies. He'd loved attention, loved the limelight, loved to be admired and sought after. The women delighted him and it never occurred to him to turn down the rewards of his own brilliance and attractiveness. He had on occasion fallen in love, though the feeling generally only lasted at most a couple of months, after which he would quickly extricate himself from the relationship. When he'd fallen in love with Rebecca, however, he had inadvertently got her pregnant at the same time and that had changed everything.

Getting married had been terrifying. Jane had wanted to do right by Rebecca and the baby, but he had known his own fickleness of emotion and had strongly anticipated disaster. He'd never been faithful to one woman for more than a few months before; how was he to manage for the rest of his life? But, perhaps in reaction to his own unconventional upbringing, he did believe in marriage and in family and he'd intended to do his best. It hadn't been easy, but he had technically been faithful to her. He hadn't been able to stop noticing and thinking about other women, though, especially as her pregnancy had been difficult and their relationship strained. The moment his daughter was put in his arms, however, Jane began a love-affair to which he knew he would never be unfaithful. And since his wife had given him this little miracle, his love for his daughter had spilled back over onto her mother. And they'd been happy for a while, the three of them.

The idyll hadn't lasted. Jane had made a choice to love his wife, and he was besotted with his daughter, but in the end there were other pulls in his life that he couldn't resist and not even their love for him could hold him. The allure of fame and money seduced him and stole him from his family as effectively as a love affair would have done. He felt that by being faithful to his wife and providing for his family he was doing everything that was required of him as a husband and a father, and he'd become frustrated when Rebecca had tried to change him, asking him to give up his way of life and be a different kind of man. He'd known he was making her unhappy, that he was disappointing her, and that had made him angry and frustrated. He'd felt hard-done-by; cheated by his own family of the satisfaction he deserved. Afterwards, he'd found it impossible to forgive himself for that.

A sudden vivid memory assailed him, and he knew that that was what had woken him up. It was a memory so painful in retrospect that he had had to suppress it completely after his wife died. This was the first time it had resurfaced in seven years. He recalled the shadows in the living room and Rebecca standing starkly against the dark square of the uncurtained window, her rage and distress vivid in his mind. He couldn't remember what had triggered the argument, but it had quickly degenerated into them screaming at each other and saying the kinds of things that you can never take back. She had asked him why he didn't just do to her what Rebecca's husband had done in the story _Rebecca_ – kill her off and then go and find someone he really loved to marry and be everything to him that she so clearly wasn't. "You're smart enough to get away with it," she'd said to him. He'd told her to get over her silly obsession with that stupid book. They could just get divorced if their marriage was so intolerable to her. "And take your daughter from you?" she'd flung at him. He'd almost wanted to kill her then, and he'd had an odd sense that she was goading him because part of her wanted it too. However, the moment had passed and so had the argument. They'd patched things up, apologised, and even chucked out their copy of _Rebecca_.

And then one day a few months later, he'd come home to find a note tacked onto his bedroom door, and in the darkness that had followed he'd been haunted by the memory of her face as she told him to kill her and go off and find someone he really loved. It had taken months in a psychiatric ward to completely submerge that memory.

He thought of the past seven years and how he had so carefully tiptoed around his memories of his family, desperate to avoid the ones that would plunge him back into the abyss. He'd chosen to dwell only on the memories that were happy (but not _too_ happy, because that was too painful). All the arguments, the frustration and the dissatisfaction of his former life he had purged from his mind as best he could. He didn't so much forget them as refused to think about them. Instead he had chosen to fuel his sanity-restoring quest for revenge by remembering how much he'd loved his family and how much he'd lost. But now that he had found a reason to remember the past truthfully, he hoped he was finally resilient enough to cope with the unvarnished version of his past.

His eyes drifted over Lisbon's peaceful face. He so badly wanted to tell her that she was the one, his true love, the only person he'd ever felt this way about. But how could he do that without both dishonouring Rebecca's memory and proving her right in her accusations – accusations, incidentally, which at the time he had thought were ludicrous? How could he have known then that he was incapable of giving anyone the kind of love his wife sought and deserved? That only the tragedy of her death would be sufficiently soul-shattering to enable him to learn to love that way? What a cruel fate that only her death could make him into the man she had wanted.

Jane's combined guilt over failing Rebecca when she was alive and being the cause of her death had held him immobilised for years. He hated the way his past always trapped him, how past mistakes tainted the present. He knew that Lisbon needed to know how he felt about her. Perhaps not today while she was still lost in the euphoria of new love, but at some point she would need to know. Otherwise he knew she would carry around with her the belief that she was his consolation prize and it would eat away at her self-confidence and at their relationship. He'd also read _Rebecca_ and hadn't forgotten the second wife's narration of the anguish she felt competing with a ghost she believed to be infinitely superior and more beloved than she was.

Jane lay watching Lisbon sleep. She looked so much younger and more vulnerable with her eyes closed and her long dark eyelashes curling against her cheek. It was a simple fact that the only person he'd loved as much as he loved Lisbon was his daughter, and even that was a completely different kind of love. He supposed he'd known from the day he'd met her that Lisbon was the one, but he'd been much too broken at the time to face such a possibility. As an act of self-preservation, he'd tried to deceive himself that he wasn't in love with her, and he'd generally succeeded remarkably well. On those occasions when his self-delusion had threatened to shatter, he'd ruthlessly shoved down his need for her and usually celebrated his victory by doing something hurtful to push her away and keep her out of the danger zone. Why it had taken him so long to pull his head out of the sand and face facts, he couldn't say. But now that he had, he wasn't going to let anyone take her away from him – not Rebecca, not Red John and especially not his own in-built gift for self-sabotage.

His eyes moved down her body. He wondered if she'd wake up if he moved the covers again. When he returned his gaze to her face, he was startled to see a pair of interested green eyes watching him, her amusement showing clearly through her sleepiness.

"Checking me out, I see, Peeping Pat," she said, her voice husky with sleep.

Jane went from nought to one hundred in an instant. Lisbon's amusement increased. She slid her hands down his body under the covers to check that Jane was thinking about what she thought he was thinking about, and smiled in a satisfied kind of way when she discovered he was.

Jane promptly forgot both the broken past and the troubling future and made the most of the perfect present.

0000000

"I do so hope you're going to let me help you pick out your cheerleading outfit, Jane," Lisbon said to him the next morning, when she reluctantly dragged herself out of bed. She could have used more sleep after her busy night.

"Why are you so keen to see me humiliate myself, Lisbon?"

"Because it's good for a man to intentionally make a fool of himself occasionally," she said. "It stops him from taking himself too seriously." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Men who take themselves too seriously are a bore."

"You are a very wise woman," Jane said, snuggling down into the bed. "Enjoy your practice. I'm going to catch up on some well-deserved sleep. Had a strenuous night, you know."

Lisbon snorted. She didn't know why she was letting him get away with this. She hoped it wasn't a sign she was getting soft. Rather reluctantly she left him to sleep.

0000000

Jane showed up at the baseball field at lunch-time, carrying a familiar picnic basket.

"Sandwiches this time," he said in response to Lisbon's inquisitive look. "Lots of hungry people to feed."

The others fell on the food like they hadn't eaten for a week.

"What have you been doing to them, Lisbon?" Jane asked, impressed.

Lisbon just smiled and eyed him appraisingly.

"No way, woman. Don't look at me like that! I brought you food out of the kindness of my heart. I am not, I repeat _not_ going to run about chasing baseballs again."

He looked ready to flee, though he knew Lisbon could easily catch him and tackle him to the ground if she had a mind to. She looked as though she was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. The others seemed to think it was pretty funny too. Ungrateful bunch.

Lisbon took a sandwich and ate it daintily.

"Thank you for the food, Jane. It was very thoughtful of you," was all she said, but Jane knew that he'd been let off the hook. He relaxed a little and it was only then that it occurred to him that he might have misinterpreted the look in Lisbon's eye earlier. Remembering that he had been the one to make the association the evening before between him not playing baseball and his other, more talented athletic activities, he quickly shot her an incredulous look.

Lisbon, seeing that he'd finally caught up with her (and _very_ amused that it had taken him so long – she loved that she had him all at sixes and sevens), raised one of her eyebrows ever so slightly. Jane was mesmerised. Lisbon sending him subtle sexual signals in front of their (fortunately distracted) colleagues was the sexiest thing he'd ever come across. It took all of his self-control not to kiss her right then and there. Deciding it would be prudent to remove himself from her immediate vicinity for the time being, he hurriedly took his leave. Lisbon watched his hasty retreat with a speculative eye. She had a suspicion that she was going to get a very warm welcome when she got home later.

0000000

"Agent Lisbon, a word."

Lisbon followed Hightower to her office with foreboding.

"I know that you and Jane are romantically involved," Hightower said without preamble, "and I'm impressed with how docile it's made him. But we both know that once the initial shine of the relationship wears off, you'll have more problems with him than you did before, not less. I know I can't order you to stop seeing him, but I want you to know that I am not pleased with this development and that I'm holding you responsible for the repercussions."

Lisbon remained expressionless.

"Is that all?" she said in her politest voice, her suppressed anger and hostility virtually making the air around her shimmer.

Hightower nodded her dismissal.

A little later in the day she managed to catch Jane during a brief moment when he wasn't glued to Lisbon's side. She headed him off to her office for his own pep-talk.

"You've been behaving remarkably well lately," she said.

"Have I?" he answered vaguely.

She gave him a pointed look.

"I told Lisbon this morning that when things start getting difficult between you and it starts to have repercussions at work, I will be holding her responsible for the fall-out."

"What else is new?" Jane said, his tone cold. "You _always_ hold Lisbon responsible for everything, regardless of the circumstances. And I think, thus far, she hasn't once been responsible for any of the things you've held her responsible for. You might want to rethink your methodology. I believe you'll find that it is fatally flawed."

Jane held Hightower's gaze for a moment, and Hightower had a sudden sense that she was dealing with a very dangerous man. This concept was so at odds with his looks and general demeanour that she would have dismissed it if she hadn't known better. But she did know better. And she thought that perhaps in future she might go a bit easier on Lisbon. She had a feeling that it was something Jane felt strongly about, and she suddenly felt that it wouldn't be wise to push him on the issue.

Jane, reading her changed body language with satisfaction, took his leave.

"I don't think Hightower will be a problem, Lisbon," he said a little later, when they were alone in Lisbon's office. "We had a little discussion about her unpleasant habit of blaming you for everything and I think she saw the light."

Lisbon looked a bit puzzled.

"You didn't hypnotise her, did you, Jane? Because hypnotising people without their permission is never acceptable, even for such an admittedly worthy cause."

"I didn't hypnotise her, Lisbon. I'm just a very persuasive man. And before you ask, no, I didn't blackmail her or do anything unethical or illegal. She wasn't that hard to persuade. I think she secretly likes you, but thinks she'll lose her edge if she's nice to people."

Lisbon didn't look convinced, but decided to let it go. She wasn't about to lose sleep over Jane getting the best of Hightower. Changing the subject, she said, "I think we should tell Dr Williams about us."

"_Tell_ her tell her, or write it in our journals tell her?" Jane said, guessing Lisbon would opt for the latter.

"I think one confrontation about my love life is enough for today," Lisbon said. "Let's just put it in our journals."

Jane grinned.

"Chicken," he said.

Lisbon just rolled her eyes.

"Feel free to go and tell her in person, if you're so eager," she said.

"No, no," Jane said, backtracking quickly, "I'm perfectly happy to do it your way, Lisbon."

He whipped his journal out and sat down with a flourish to do his lady's bidding.

_Jane's Work Journal: Week 10, Monday_

_I've been given permission to tell you that Lisbon and I have finally crossed the Rubicon and taken our relationship "to the next level", as they say. Frankly, I think we've bypassed levels entirely, and simply taken off into the sky. Or possibly stepped off a cliff. Either way, it's pretty heady stuff and I'm pleased to say that thus far I haven't screwed it up._

_Despite being a sympathetic soul, I'm not sure if you're going to approve or not – I'm well aware that Lisbon deserves much, much better than me – but you only have yourself to blame if you don't. We were both handling our denial with the ease of years of practice before you came along, and it's only because you insisted on us dredging up our feelings and whatnot, that we found ourselves asking dangerous questions and finding even more dangerous answers. Thanks, by the way. I owe you one. A really, really big one._

_And yes, I know there's stuff I need to sort out, and things she and I are going to have to talk about (even though we don't want to), and that I've got my work cut out for me, etc. Baby steps. I assure you, Doc, no-one wants me to get this right more than I do._

_Lisbon's Work Journal: Week 10, Monday_

_Jane and I have something to tell you, but we're trying to keep it out of the office, so you're the first person we've actually told (though everyone probably already knows). I'm sure you've already realised that we've been seeing each other outside of our work relationship, and we wanted you to know that it's progressed into a romantic relationship. We have you to thank, actually, for providing the impetus to get us out of our denial and into whatever it is we're in the middle of at the moment. I know we should have come and told you this in person, but we're afraid of making idiots of ourselves. It seemed safer to put it in our journals._

_Suffice to say I am presently very happy, which makes a nice change. I've decided not to brood about the future and all the things that are likely to go wrong, because why borrow trouble? Better to just live in the present and take it one day at a time._

"By the way, Lisbon," Jane said, looking up from his journal, "I've been meaning to ask how I've been doing on the chaos spreadsheet lately. I'm sure it confirms my hunch that I've been setting a new bar for good behaviour."

0000000

Out in the bullpen, a sudden explosion of sound from Lisbon's office made Rigsby say, "Wonder what she threw at him this time? Hey, is it just me, or have Jane and Lisbon both been acting weird recently?"

"If by weird you mean that they're trying to hide the fact that they're sleeping together, then yes," Cho said.

"Oh, I was wondering about that," Van Pelt said. "Do you really think they are? Because they've been acting different around each other for a while and I wasn't sure if it was just that they'd finally realised how they felt about each other or whether they've actually done something about it. This is _Lisbon_ we're talking about, after all."

"Well, even Lisbon must want a love life, I guess," Rigsby said, as though he wasn't entirely sure he believed such an incredible idea himself, but was allowing logic to rule supreme, "but it doesn't say much for her taste in men. I mean, I like Jane as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't want him anywhere near my sister, if you know what I mean?"

"Lisbon can take care of herself," Cho said, but his voice betrayed the fact that he also found the idea a little worrying.

"Maybe they'll be happy together," Van Pelt said, with hopeful optimism. "They both deserve a bit of happiness. And whatever else she may be, I think Lisbon is a romantic at heart. Look at the way she backed Rigsby and me, even though it got her in trouble. She should get the fairytale for a change."

"There are a lot of dragons and evil witches and poisoned objects in fairytales," Cho pointed out. "Do you really want to wish all that on her? She has enough trouble with Jane as it is. Besides, I don't think she'd make a very convincing damsel in distress."

"I meant the fairytale ending," Van Pelt said, with some asperity, "though I have to agree with Rigsby. Jane is a bit of a worrying choice. He's not the most _reliable_ option for a fairytale prince, is he?"

They all pondered this in silence for a while, then Rigsby said what they were all thinking, "Well, I hope it works out is all, because otherwise it's going to be hell around here."

0000000

It had taken Jane days to screw up his courage enough to broach the subject of his wife with Lisbon, but finally one evening after everyone else had left the office, he finally took the plunge. He had been lying on Lisbon's couch watching her work, but he got up and came and sat in the chair opposite her, which made her look up at him enquiringly.

"Have you ever read the book _Rebecca_?" he asked her.

Lisbon's face lit up.

"Yes, I loved that book! It's got so many twists that after I finished it the first time, I went straight back to the beginning and read the whole thing again with new eyes."

Jane looked at her intently.

"Can you remember the storyline?"

Sensing from his demeanour that Jane was leading somewhere important with this, Lisbon took a moment to think about it.

"The second wife spends the whole book thinking her husband is still mourning the loss of his beautiful, accomplished, perfect first wife, but eventually finds out that he actually hated Rebecca with a passion, and had killed her and disposed of the body."

"Good memory," Jane said, then paused and took a deep breath. "I haven't really wanted to talk to you about my marriage, Lisbon. I want that part of my life to be closed. It has nothing to do with the here and now; nothing to do with us and our relationship. But I don't want my silence to have the same effect on you as Maxim's silence had on his second wife. She completely misinterpreted why he never spoke about Rebecca and I don't want you to make the same mistake. Obviously my Rebecca was nothing like the character in the book. She was a lovely woman and I failed her miserably. But, Lisbon... Teresa, I've never loved anyone before the way I love you. You are not competing with anyone. I need you to know that – really believe it in your heart of hearts – and not think that my silence about my past says anything at all about you or us."

He looked into her eyes to see if she believed him, and saw that she did. Her eyes were filled with compassion and love and relief. He was suddenly very glad he'd told her. It hadn't been nearly as bad as he'd thought it would be. She smiled at him.

"Thank you for telling me. Is that what's been worrying you all week?"

Jane quirked his mouth at her. "When did I become the transparent one?" He leaned forward intently. "I don't want the past to haunt us, Lisbon. If you have questions, ask them. You have that right."

Until that moment, Lisbon had thought there were a million things she wanted to know about Jane's past. But something had changed in him recently and she wasn't sure how she knew, but she felt certain that he had at last given up his old worrying habit of living in the past. His Red John quest aside, he'd laid the past to rest and chosen to live in the present. He'd chosen her. Suddenly she no longer needed to know about Rebecca. If Jane had made peace with his past, so could she.

"Can I take a rain-check?" she said.

He grinned at her.

"Absolutely." He stood up. "I think it's time we went home now, don't you? It's much too late to still be at work."

"When you say 'home', are you meaning that in a _su casa es mi casa_ kind of way?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Well, when the choice is between us each going to our separate homes, cooking dinner for one and going to bed alone versus going back to your place, eating dinner together and then making love, I'm voting for option two. However, your vote carries the veto."

Lisbon started to shut down her computer and straighten her desk.

"So, what are we having for dinner then?" she asked.

* * *

Su casa es mi casa_ is Spanish for 'your home is my home'. And no, I don't speak any Spanish._

_There is probably only one chapter of this left. Unless my verbal diarrhoea gets the best of me, in which case it might be two. _


	11. The New Beginning

_Well, here it is, folks – the final chapter! Thank you for your interest and encouragement throughout this story. It's been a lot of fun to write, especially for such a gracious audience. I hope you find the resolution satisfying._

* * *

**The New Beginning**

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 12, Saturday_

_Oh, I'm so glad I took my video camera with me to the game. Jane was priceless. Since our team was wearing red, Jane got himself a red tuxedo, a red top hat and giant red pom-poms (these last were presumably to show that he was a cheerleader and hadn't just escaped from a circus somewhere). He then took charge of the small crowd of spectators and soon had them doing Mexican waves and following him in chants and songs. Whenever there was a break in the game, he kept everyone entertained with magic tricks, one of which was to make a white rabbit come out of his hat. (We now have a white rabbit as a pet – I'm not so happy about that part. Rabbits smell.) He had a wonderful time. Jane loves to work a crowd. I actually found him rather distracting, but I wasn't the only one. I'm fairly certain that he was sometimes intentionally trying to distract the players on the other team. Not that we needed any help from Jane. We crushed them. It was immensely gratifying._

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 12, Saturday_

_Lisbon kicked some Organised Crime butt today. She and her faithful team annihilated the opposition, and they did it with panache. I would have liked to watch the game with my full attention, but a promise is a promise and I had a job to do. Still, I managed to keep a pretty close eye on my girl, since it would have been a waste not to. Lisbon is poetry in motion when it comes to baseball and I wasn't the only one who thought so. Even without my encouragement, she would have been a huge crowd-pleaser. I was immensely proud of her._

_I don't think she's very happy about the rabbit though. Maybe I should trade it in for a puppy._

"Well, you certainly brought your own spin to cheerleading."

"Did I live up to expectations?"

"See for yourself." Lisbon waved the camera in front of him.

"Shouldn't _I _have been filming _you_ playing in your big game?"

"Oh, I already have far too many videos of me playing baseball..." Lisbon realised too late what she had let slip.

Jane gave her a serene smile.

"It would be easiest if you just tell me where they are, Lisbon. Do you really want me going through your whole house to find them?"

Lisbon gave a defeated sigh.

"They're probably in some of those old boxes over there. With a bit of luck they'll have gone mouldy and we can both save ourselves some pain."

It didn't take Jane long to find the video tapes.

"Nope, not mouldy," he said cheerfully. "It's a good thing you've hung onto your VCR so anachronistically. It would have been annoying having to wait while they were converted to DVD. Though I'll make sure we get that done too."

He pulled Lisbon down onto the couch beside him and started to play one of the tapes. It was of Lisbon, aged about 11, playing Little League baseball. She hit a home-run with the same fluid style that Jane had seen her use that morning. A little later the camera showed Lisbon's mother hugging her. Lisbon, half-lying against Jane's body, was so still he was afraid she'd stopped breathing.

"You okay?"

She jerked her head in response, which Jane knew was meant to be assent, but wasn't terribly convincing.

"Do you want me to put the tapes away?"

"No, it's okay, Jane. It was a long time ago. I just didn't know I had a video of Mom, though. I thought all these videos were from later and I've never actually bothered to watch them."

"You look so much like her."

"I know. Sometimes when my Dad was really drunk he'd talk to me as though I was her. It made me realise how much it bothered him when I grew to look more and more like her. I think he both loved me more and hated me a little for it."

"If we had a child, what do you think she'd look like?" Jane said, casually changing the subject from one mine-field to another. "For some reason I think she'd have dark curls, big green eyes and my ability to make trouble and then charm her way out of it. What do you think?"

Lisbon was looking at him like she'd never seen him before.

"You think about us having kids?" she asked, slightly stunned.

"Well, it would be a shame to waste all these fabulous genes, wouldn't it? Don't you want kids?"

Lisbon looked confused.

"Well, I didn't used to, but I don't know, maybe with you if that's what you wanted. I hadn't really thought about it. I just assumed..." she trailed off, unsure what to say.

"Well, you're right that I'd rather wait until after we catch Red John, but I want to have a family with you and there's only so long we can wait. I think we're getting close to catching him now, though, Lisbon. He's been so active these last couple of years and been so close to us so often that it's just a matter of time before he makes a mistake. I know I'm not psychic, but I have a strong gut feeling about this. And when we've got him, then you and I will be free to do whatever we want."

"We're not free now?"

"You know better than anyone that we're not, Lisbon. But we will be. Soon. And then we can revisit, among other things, our little girl with dark curls. Yes?"

"Okay. And in the meantime we can make the most of the honeymoon period," she said, giving him a look that melted his bones.

He leaned over and began kissing her, the baseball videos mercifully forgotten.

0000000

_**7 months later**_

Red John knew he was cornered. He supposed it had to happen eventually, but he was still annoyed. He wasn't sure how Patrick Jane had worked out where he was so quickly, and he disliked the idea of Jane getting the better of him. Even more annoying was the fact that instead of riding in like the Lone Ranger as Red John had expected him to, Jane had arrived with not only Lisbon and her team (all armed to the teeth), but also a swat team, which had surrounded the building and cut off all his exits.

Show time.

Lisbon was approaching with extreme caution. Jane, who didn't have a weapon, was hanging back. Red John raised his gun and pointed it at Lisbon, ignoring her commands to put his weapon down. Red John happened to know that Lisbon was a crack shot. If he was going to die, getting shot in the head and the heart seemed as good a way as any to go. It beat jail-time and it beat whatever it was that Jane had planned to do him. And in a way, he got the last laugh, because Jane's revenge would be incomplete. He'd have to watch his nemesis die a quick, painless death and then live with the knowledge that he'd failed to exact proper revenge. Red John knew exactly how Jane felt on this subject. Which is why he was still puzzled as to why he'd brought the whole gang with him.

The realisation hit him a moment too late. He'd already squeezed the trigger, even though Lisbon was taking cover and there was little chance he'd hit her, and she instantly returned fire. She didn't aim for his head or his heart. She aimed for his stomach – two agonising shots that made him stagger to his knees. He was still holding onto his gun, and Lisbon instructed everyone to hold their positions. The suspect was injured but still armed and dangerous. A stillness fell over the scene. Time seemed to pass agonisingly slowly. Red John didn't look at Jane as the pain started to mist his eyes – he kept his gaze fixed on Lisbon, who watched him steadily, her gun still pointed at him, her expression carefully blank as she waited patiently for him to die.

Still determined that Jane shouldn't win, Red John tried to lift his gun again, wanting to shoot himself in the head and finish things. Lisbon shot him in the arm and he dropped the gun with a clatter. Lisbon instructed him to put both hands where she could see them, but Red John paid her no attention. Given how dangerous he was, Lisbon refused to let anyone approach him until he complied with her command. The man was bound to have at least one knife on his person, and she didn't want any of her people on the wrong end of Red John's knife. They had lost too many people that way already.

In the end they just stood and watched him die slowly and very painfully. Once she was certain he had stopped breathing, Lisbon approached him carefully and checked for a pulse. As soon as she shook her head, everyone burst into a flurry of activity. In the ensuing chaos, Lisbon and Jane didn't have a chance to speak to each other, but he caught her gaze and, with the faintest ghost of a smile on his face, gave her a little nod which she understood.

Some time later, as Lisbon finished up outside the building and was finally ready to leave, Jane appeared at her side. Evidently he'd been waiting for her.

"Hey," he said to her. "You ready to go?"

"I thought you'd gone ages ago," she said, pleased (and a little relieved) to see him. For a man who had just defeated his nemesis he was behaving remarkably normally.

"You've got the car-keys," he joked, his tone light.

Lisbon couldn't quite gauge his mood. They'd been waiting so long for this moment, and she'd imagined him reacting in so many different ways, that she no longer knew what to think. His present behaviour was considerably more anti-climactic than she'd anticipated, but it was the kind of anticlimax she wholeheartedly supported. She smiled at him.

"Let's go then."

They didn't talk in the car. Jane was gazing out of the window, his face expressionless. Lisbon concentrated on the road. She still couldn't quite grasp the fact that everything had happened exactly how Jane had said it would all those months ago when they'd agreed on their compromise. Red John had behaved as though he was following a script Jane had written, and (rather more surprisingly in her opinion) Jane had managed to stay on script too. Her part had been rather easy in the end. Everything she'd done had been perfectly legitimate, necessary even, and the only thing that she would have done differently if she hadn't promised faithfully to stick to Jane's pre-conceived plan would have been to go for a more reliable kill-shot. She glanced across at Jane, but still couldn't read what he was thinking.

Back at the office there was another flurry of activity, none of which involved Jane. He lay on his couch and waited for Lisbon again.

"Are you coming home with me?" she asked him tentatively some time later.

Jane had kept his apartment so that they could maintain, both for themselves and for everyone else, the fiction that he still lived there. It had actually been quite useful – there had been numerous occasions over the past few months when he had known that Lisbon would kill him if he didn't give her some space, and he would then retreat for a few days back at his own place, where he would pass the time wondering how on earth he'd managed to live there on his own for five years. In reality, most of his clothes had long since migrated across to Lisbon's place and he had effectively started living with her the day they first slept together. The first couple of months it had been partly because they couldn't keep their hands off each other, but even when things started to slow down a bit in the bedroom (he wasn't as young as he used to be, after all, and honeymoons can't last forever) he had craved her company. He liked cooking her dinner and he liked watching TV with her and, most importantly, he liked sleeping in the same bed as her and being able to woo her awake in the mornings with a gentleness that even succeeded in circumventing her usual early-morning grumpiness.

Quite simply, he loved her and he found her very easy to be with. She was undemanding, easy-going and uncomplicated to live with. She ate anything he cooked and was always genuinely grateful that he'd gone to the trouble. Mess didn't worry her. Her home life was surprisingly unscheduled and she usually only did chores when they became urgent enough to impress themselves on her consciousness. The only thing she was adamant about was retaining control of the TV remote. This had not come as a surprise to Jane.

"Of course," he said, standing up.

They didn't bother to drive home separately. It was only when they were in the house, however, that Jane finally reached out and pulled Lisbon into his arms.

"Thank you," he said softly into her hair.

"You're really okay?" she asked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one who had to shoot someone today. I know how that always upsets you. Especially the way it went down today."

"I'm not upset. I'm glad he's dead."

Jane leaned back so that he could see her face. She looked like she was telling the truth.

"Are you sure you're okay with me being the one to kill him, though?" she asked, her brow furrowed worriedly. "I know it's what we agreed, but saying and doing are very different things."

"I'm glad it was you," he assured her. "It was even better than me killing him, actually," he added, with a dark pleasure that she understood but still found a little unnerving, "because he wasn't expecting it. Did you see how shocked he was that we'd tricked him? And it was appropriate that it was you, Lisbon. He planned to kill you, I'm sure of it. But you got him first. You represented me and everything he took from me and wanted to take again, and you represented all those women he killed, rising up and getting their revenge."

"And I think Bosco would have been pleased."

"Yes, he would."

"So it's over. We're free. Just like you said."

"Yes. There is something I need to do first, though. I'm going to fly down to LA tomorrow and put my house on the market."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He smiled sadly at her.

"This is something I need to do on my own. Besides, haven't you got a lot of work to do?"

"It could wait. Let me know if you change your mind."

They didn't make love that night, but Jane held her close to him and stayed awake long after she fell asleep. He didn't know what to feel, and there was an emptiness inside him that frightened him. What if he let Lisbon down after all? What if, after all his promises to the contrary, that partly-suppressed but persistent little fear of hers that he would end up breaking her heart was proven correct? The thought made him feel cold and a little desperate.

The next day he drove from LAX to his house in Malibu, stopping to buy the paint he needed on the way. He knew he'd never be able to sell the house with the smiley still on the wall – that would have been too much of a challenge even for a good real estate market. Still, the house was beautiful and in a prime location, so even in a recession he thought he'd be able to sell it fairly easily.

Standing in the room where his life had changed forever, he tried to talk to the silence, to reach his family and tell them that he'd avenged their deaths at last. But Jane had never believed in life after death and there was little comfort in talking to the empty nothingness that they had left behind. They were gone. Forever. He removed the lid of the paint tin and set about his task, and as the smiley disappeared beneath his brushstrokes, the emptiness inside him finally gave way to grief and he cried in final farewell to his lost loves.

0000000

When Jane returned to Lisbon a couple of days later, she could see the difference in him at once. He looked so happy to see her waiting for him at the airport, and there was a lightness about him that he'd never had before. For the first time she really did believe they were free.

A couple of weeks later he took her on an exact replica of their first date – the roller coaster rides, the picnic at the beach and the walk through Muir Woods. This time, though, after taking her hand, he knelt down, took out a ring and asked her to marry him.

_Lisbon's Private Journal: Week 47, Saturday_

_I didn't think he'd ever ask me to marry him. I'm not sure why. I knew he wanted to live with me and that he even wanted kids with me, but for some reason I just couldn't picture him wanting to get married. Maybe I wanted to pretend it didn't matter to me. I didn't want to hope for it and be disappointed. I guess I wasn't sure how to interpret his desire to be free – whether it simply meant freedom from fear and freedom from the past, or whether it extended beyond that to a desire to be free from obligations and commitments. But the truth is, despite everything, part of me hoped anyway._

_I think everyone will be happy for us. My team pretends not to know about us, but in that 'we know and we know you know we know' kind of way which enables them to be supportive without having to say anything embarrassing. And Dr Williams has been a gem – she seems genuinely invested in seeing that our relationship works out. I think she'll be delighted with our news. Hightower has been surprisingly hands-off with us ever since the day Jane told me she wouldn't be a problem. I wonder what went on between them? Anyway, I don't think she's likely to start kicking up a fuss at this point. She has other fish to fry, from what the grapevine has to say._

_I wonder what my brothers will say? Only one way to find out, I suppose..._

_Jane's Private Journal: Week 47, Saturday_

_She said yes! I have to admit, proposing is a daunting task, particularly when you've never actually discussed marriage before. A small part of me was truly terrified that I might have read her all wrong or at least messed up the timing – especially since she was so clearly not expecting the question. She looked overwhelmed, but, fortunately for me, in a good way. And she said yes without even thinking about it, which made me inexpressibly happy. It's a miracle that she trusts me enough to entrust herself and her future to me, but I honestly have a good feeling about this. I feel like a brand new man. I can't wait to start a new life with her – a new beginning with a clean slate._

_I just hope some annoying bureaucrat at the CBI isn't going to start being tiresome. I'm practising my menacing glare, just in case..._

THE END

* * *

_Did I forget to mention that they lived happily ever after? Well, I'm disposed to believe that they did._

_Thank you for reading!_


End file.
